


Everything We Need

by hailxcas (castiellovesthewinchesters)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Bottom!Cas, Destiel - Freeform, Dom!Cas, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Major Character Injury, SPN - Freeform, Smut, Sub!Dean, and bondage, and fluff, bottom!Dean, prepare for anal foreplay, there's just everything, there's lots of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-15 09:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 101,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8050762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiellovesthewinchesters/pseuds/hailxcas
Summary: Castiel Novak is harassed walking to his car from work. Dean Winchester, who is a police officer, though off duty at the time, is on his evening walk and witnesses the event and steps in to help. Castiel assures him that there is nothing wrong, and proceeds to walk to his car and drives home. Castiel lives on an acreage 20 minutes out of town, and is surprised and slightly creeped out when he realizes he was followed by Dean, who only wanted to make sure he got home safe. The next morning when Cas wakes up to go for a run, he sees Dean’s car is still parked in his driveway. They soon become close friends, and eventually even more than, but when Dean is wounded on duty, their relationship is tested beyond measure and they realize they care more for each other than initially anticipated.





	1. Omelettes and Avocados

It was just another work day, but Castiel Novak was exhausted, having stayed at work later than he anticipated. He should have known getting most of the assignments marked for his students on a Friday night wouldn’t end well. Garrison Falls’ Male Preparatory School was where Castiel worked, lived, and breathed. At least he got more than half of the essays marked, which was a plus—it made for less work over the weekend. 

He walked grudgingly towards his car that was parked a few blocks away from the school, his feet heavy and sore. Why the fuck did he park this far away? It didn’t seem that far away this morning. His bag had begun to feel heavier and heavier with each step. He slowed his pace to rest and appreciate the warm spring air. The sun was almost set, and at this time of the year, the sun was only just beginning to stay out later. He glanced at his watch, 8:26 PM. _Christ_ , Castiel thought. He didn’t realize it was this late. He picked up the pace and walked across the empty road and down the first block. 

He wasn’t far from his car when he heard the voices of a few men behind him. He knew they probably wanted nothing to do with him, but Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as he could hear them coming closer behind him. Castiel gripped the leather strap of his bag that held his laptop and stack of essays. It was heavy enough that if he came out swinging, it would likely do some damage. 

He ignored the first call from one of the men. He kept walking straight. Castiel could see his car, he was only minutes away. But the men were persistent. His grip tightened on the strap when he felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. 

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” a nameless man said to him as another pinned him to the wall of some shed. 

“I apologize, you must have me mixed with somebody else,” Castiel replied as calmly as he could, without letting his voice shake. 

“You didn’t hear me. I said—give me your shit.” The man was right, Castiel hadn’t heard him say that.

Castiel didn’t move, his hand still clasped to the strap of his bag. His breathing had started to become short, as panic was about to induce. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a deep rugged voice boom from across the street, yelling at the guys surrounding him. They scattered when the man started to march over. 

The man approached him slowly.

“Hey man, are you okay?” he asked, concerned. Even in dusk’s lighting, Castiel could see the green in his eyes as he stepped up on the curb and reached out to Castiel. 

Castiel cleared his throat and nodded assertively. “Yes. I’m fine,” he said.

“Can I walk you wherever you’re going? You can trust me, I’m a cop,” the man smiled softly and pulled out a badge from his back pocket. 

“Uh, sure, my car is just right over there,” Castiel pointed.

“Well let’s get over there before anyone comes back.” The green eyes looked around for the culprits but even Castiel knew they were long gone by now. 

“Right.” Castiel began to walk, the man followed beside, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

They were silent for a moment before the man spoke.

“Did you know those guys back there? I can write up a report at the station tomorrow when I go in, it’s not a problem,” he offered.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize them. Thank you, though. I appreciate the offer.” 

“Hey, no problem. Long day?” He was making small talk now. It only made Castiel begin to panic as his car was very near and there wouldn’t be much to talk about. It would just be awkward.

“Uhm, yes. Quite long, actually. I’m exhausted,” Castiel admits, more to himself than anything.

“Yeah, I hear ya,” he agreed. 

They arrived at Castiel’s car. 

“Well, here we are,” Castiel commentated. 

“What’s your name, if I may ask?” the green eyes questioned.

“Castiel.”

“You have a good night, Castiel,” he smiled. “Stay safe.” And with that, the man walked away before Castiel could give a full reply. 

“You…as well,” he half-said to himself, because it was pointless to call after a man who was already walking away. He looked down at his feet as he groped for his keys and he realized that he didn’t even ask the man for his name. _Stupid_. Now he’ll never know who he was—other than the mysterious green-eyed man—a green-eyed man whom Castiel had never seen before, and Garrison Falls wasn’t that large of a town. 

Castiel fumbled with his keys before finally getting into his car. He pulled out from the side of the road and began his drive home, another twenty minute drive out on the edge of town. The clock on his dash read 8:58 PM, and Castiel just sighed. He rarely leaves this late.

The plus side to driving this late in the evening was that the traffic was manageable. It didn’t take as long for Castiel to be pulling up to his driveway as it normally did. Castiel lived in a small, quaint house, located on a rather small piece of land just on the outskirts of Garrison Falls. It wasn’t much, he figured, but it was something that he felt most comfortable being in. He parked in front of his garage, unable to park inside because he hadn’t fixed the automatic door yet since it froze during the winter. 

He walked to the back side of his house where he could see his chickens— _yes, six of them_ —were situated in their coop. He threw a couple handfuls of seed, and walked inside his house. He was just talking his coat off when he noticed a set of headlights pull up. He never had visitors, especially at this hour, unless it was planned—and this was definitely not planned. Castiel watched from his kitchen window. He couldn’t recognize the figure as it got out of the car and walked up to the front door. 

The doorbell rang once followed by a few raps on the door, and Castiel was hesitant to answer, afraid he was followed home by one of those guys. When he peaked through the blinds of his front door, and a pair of unforgettable green eyes stared back at him. Castiel had to remind himself to keep breathing and _open the fucking door you idiot_. 

“Hey,” the man smiled. 

“Hey, yourself.” Castiel was a bit confused. Scratch that. He was terrified. He leaned on the door frame and tried to look like he wasn’t. 

“Sorry,” he laughed, obviously seeing Castiel’s look of (attempted) hidden complexity, “I—I just wanted to make sure you got home safe, that’s all. I’m Dean by the way. Dean Winchester.” Dean held out his hand.

Castiel grabbed it and shook it firmly. He wasn’t sure if Dean or him held on longer than what would usually be a handshake, but he dropped his hand awkwardly when they both let go. 

“Well, I’m home now. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. I’m fine,” Castiel assured him. 

“Right.” Dean just stood there. Castiel was unsure if he needed to say anything else, but what else was there to say? Dean beat him to it.

“—Sorry. Uh, well, then. Goodnight, Cas.” Dean stumbled off the front step. 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Castiel watched as Dean walked off the front porch step and down the walkway to his car. Castiel shut the door and tried to keep his cool as he still wasn’t sure what the fuck just happened. He was half creeped out that some random stranger decided to follow him home to insure he was safe—cop or not, and half lost in the thought of those green eyes that did something so genuine for a complete stranger. He was humbled by the thought and it made him smile to himself as he turned the lights off in the porch, locked the door, and walked towards his bedroom.

He decided that getting ready for bed was the best decision, as the day’s work was creeping back up on him and he realized how tired he had become in the last half an hour. He showered and got dressed, turned off all of the lights in the house, and went to bed. 

—————————————

His alarm blared at 7:00 AM the next morning. And yes, this was sleeping in for Castiel. He woke up refreshed and ready to start his day. Castiel’s Saturdays went as followed: wake up, brush teeth, make a pre-workout smoothie, run five miles, shower, make protein shake, make a light breakfast with a cup of coffee. On the weekdays, Castiel would wake up at 5:00 AM and do all of that before going to work. 

Today was a little different.

Castiel had just finished stretching, ready to begin his run, when he noticed a car parked at the end of his driveway, half hidden behind the trees. He slowly approached it to see Dean, fast asleep in the front seat. 

This was really weird. 

Castiel wasn’t sure what to do. Does he go for his run anyways? Does he wake Dean up and tell him to fuck off? He decided to do the former and worry about Dean when he returned. Castiel didn’t like it when his routine was broken. 

Castiel was sure he didn’t do the full five miles that usually does. His mind was too distracted by the fact that Dean, a _stranger_ nonetheless, had slept outside his house throughout the night. Castiel appreciated the gesture, in a weird way, but it was still a little unnerving. He doesn’t even know the guy.

The car was still sitting there when he returned. Castiel was almost half hoping that Dean would have woken up in his absence and left, but Castiel realized he had to suck it up and just approach him. He walked up to the car, more nervous than ever. He watched as Dean’s chest slowly rose and settled, he counted the freckles on his face, and gazed over his full lips. 

He reached his hand out and lightly tapped the window, where Dean’s head rested. Dean lightly flinched back and rubbed his eyes. A look of embarrassment washed over his face when he realized he had just be woken up by Castiel. He rolled down his window and yawned, stretching his arms. 

“Good morning, Dean. I hope I didn’t startle you,” Castiel mumbled shyly. 

Dean stifled another yawn as he said good morning back to Castiel. 

“What time is it?” Dean asked, rubbing his neck.

“It’s nearly 8:00 AM.”

“But it’s Saturday,” Dean complained. 

“If you wanted to sleep in, I would have advised you not to sleep in front of my house.” It came out a little bit harsher than Castiel was expecting and he immediately regretted it by the look on Dean’s face. 

“Sorry, man. I just didn’t like the idea of you spending the night by yourself. Those guys were a little sketchy.” Dean looked around, avoiding Castiel’s gaze.

“I’m fine, honestly. I appreciate your concern. That sort of thing happens all the time,” he lied. He was fine, but this “sort of thing” didn’t happen often, or at all. Garrison Falls was a nice town. Everybody knew everybody and the people were friendly. What those men were up to last night was something entirely new that Castiel had witnessed. 

“Yeah well, anyways,” Dean continued. “I don’t want to keep you from whatever it was you were about to do.” Dean turned to start his car.

“I was actually about to make breakfast,” Castiel stated, not really sure where he was going with that, and realized he now had to invite him. “Would you like to join? It’s the least I could do. A sort of ‘thanks’ for staying guard last night.” Castiel laughed lightly to try and make up for sounding like a douchebag. He smiled as sincerely as he could. 

Dean hesitated before he spoke.

“Nah, I think I’ve already overstayed my welcome, thanks.”

“Please, it’s the least I can do,” Castiel tried.

“Uh, you sure? I mean, I don’t want to intrude,” Dean teased lightly. Castiel caught the joke and held his tongue, considering he didn’t find it amusing. 

“I’m sure. Please, come in,” Castiel gestured toward his house.

“Okay, yeah. Sure.” Dean stepped out of his car and stretched his legs. He followed Castiel up the path that he walked less than twelve hours ago. Only this time, he was invited to do so—sort of. 

Castiel led the way through the threshold, the handsome man followed shortly behind. Castiel took off his shoes and placed them by the door, and walked over to the kitchen where he started a pot of coffee. 

Castiel noticed Dean placed his own shoes beside Castiel’s and walked into the kitchen where he leaned against the island counter.

“So, uh, you’re a teacher huh?” Dean pointed to the pile of assignments on the kitchen table. He pulled out one of the stools next to the counter and sat down. 

“Yes. High school. Prep-school, actually.”

“Yeah I figured. You were walking near the school last night.” 

“Yes. I uh—I like to walk,” Castiel started, “I usually park farther away and bring my bike so that I can get a _little_ more exercise in the morning, seeing as I don’t get to do much in the afternoon—marking and other responsibilities are prioritized above it—but yesterday, I couldn’t bring my bike because the tire was flat, hence why I was walking. I’ll have to air it up tomorrow so I can ride it to school on Monday.” Castiel breathed, trying—and failing—to not let his anxiety seep through. He was rambling. He did that when he was nervous.  
He grabbed a couple of pans out of the cupboards and placed them on the stove—mainly to keep a part of him busy. He avoided Dean’s gaze as he began to raid the fridge, placing items on the counter. He was planning on making omelettes and toast, but he wasn’t sure what Dean would like, and Dean noticed his hesitation. 

“What’s with the face, Cas?”

“Uhm, I was just thinking about what you would like to eat. I was going to make an omelette and toast with avocado but...”

“Anything you make is fine, I appreciate it.” Dean smiled genuinely.

“Alright. How do you like your coffee?”

 

Castiel went to work. He gradually made small talk while he bustled around the kitchen, grabbing assorted bowls and pans to make their breakfast. 

He made bacon too, because he noticed Dean eyeing it up when he had grabbed it to get at the eggs behind it. It wasn’t long before Castiel could see Dean practically drooling at the scent of the bacon cooking. 

“Do you need a hand with anything?” Dean asked.

“No, thank you. I should manage fine.” Castiel started whipping up the eggs for the omelettes. “Actually, would you mind cutting up the onions and peppers for the omelettes?”

“Yeah, sure thing, Cas.” Dean got up and walked around the island. Castiel handed him a knife and cutting board.  
Castiel grabbed a couple avocados and began slicing them open. He cut them into thin strips and placed them on a plate for the toast later. 

“Cut up anything you want in your omelette and set it aside. I’ll put it in for you,” Castiel instructed. 

“Yes, teacher,” Dean mused, and turned back to wink at Castiel. 

Dean buckled over and laughed when Castiel turned fifty shades darker. 

“I’m kidding.”

“Uhm, right,” Castiel busied himself with flipping the bacon and he could hear Dean chuckling to himself. 

When the bacon was cooked, Castiel took it out of the pan and placed it on a plate, then patted it down with a paper towel to remove the grease.

“Woah—woah, what are you doing?” Dean cried. “You can’t just wipe the grease off, that’s ludicrous!” 

Castiel laughed. “Clogged arteries are more ludicrous, Dean.” He wiped his hands clean.

Dean scoffed and tossed his peppers and onions in a bowl with the scrambled eggs. Castiel brought the bacon over and chopped it up and put it in with the rest of the ingredients. His lips quirked when he noticed Dean’s expression change.

“I like the way you think, Cas—aside from ruining the bacon,” Dean smiled.

“Yes, well. Usually I don’t add bacon. But today, I’ll do it just for you,” Castiel returned the smile and mixed up the eggs some more and brought them over to the pan. 

 

They ate breakfast together at Castiel’s crowded kitchen table. It was quaint, but as breakfast went on, Castiel could feel an ongoing tension within himself that was starting to show on his face. 

“What’s on you’re mind?” Dean asked, shoving the last bit of his toast into his mouth in the least unattractive way possible.

“I’m sorry.” Castiel placed his fork down. “This is all just a little bit unusual for me. I—I’ve never had someone like you turn up and be so valiant—and yet unsettling at the same time. I don’t really know how to react to because you’re here right now—you could be here for the reason you _say_ you’re here for—or this could all be an elaborately thought out plan to murder me when I least expect it.” Castiel could tell his face was giving away all of his emotions as his face contorted into regret for opening his mouth.

Dean fought back a smile as he looked Castiel straight in the eyes. His body began to shake as he held back laughter when he looked at the expression Castiel was letting show.

“No, I get it,” Dean replied, waving his hand over the whole situation and smiling. “Look, don’t worry about it. I’ve never actually done something like this before either. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. That was the complete opposite of my intentions.” 

“What exactly were your intentions then?” Castiel demanded as lightly as he could. Dean sighed.

“I don’t know.” He set his arms on the table and leaned in. “I’ve never done this before—like I said. I know it’s not necessarily in the job description to follow distressed people home and sleep in their driveway to ensure their safety, but I just felt like it was my duty—wow. That sounded _so_ much better in my head.” 

Castiel looked down at his unfinished meal. 

“Look, I know this is a little weird,” Dean continued, “but for some reason, I just felt like I needed to be there for you last night. I’m kind of new to this town, I don’t know the people well—I hardly know anyone, actually.” He laughed to himself. “All I’m saying is, I felt like I needed to protect you.”

“You don’t know me.” Castiel tried not to make it sound rude; everything he seemed to say sounded blunt and careless.

“Is it bad that I want to?”

Castiel looked up and was pierced by Dean’s stare, which was truthful and sincere.

He sighed. “No. It’s not bad that you want to. I’m just not the best at making friends, as you can probably already tell. I keep to myself, I do my job, I come home. I tend to my chickens, and I keep my house relatively tidy. I go for runs every day, and I keep a routine. I make lesson plans, and I mark assignments. I don’t do much else. I’m not one for spontaneity,” he hesitates, “I kept a pretty good front for you, for the most part, while I cooked breakfast, because I was distracted by the food. But on the inside I was panicking because I was unsure about you.”

Dean didn't say anything for a few moments. He sat quietly while Castiel calmed himself down. 

“That’s fair.”

“Anyways,” Castiel murmured. “That’s how I feel.” 

“I’m sorry, Cas. But if I made you _that_ uncomfortable, why did you invite me in?” Dean’s face changed to panic when he could see Castiel’s turn into defence-mode. He held up his hands in front of him. “I—I didn’t mean that in a bad way—I just—” He sighed. “You could have told me to leave, and that would have been okay.”

“Yes, well. I felt that I needed to invite you in after I told you I was making breakfast. I was intrigued by you. I still am,” he paused, “but I’m also partially terrified. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah—I think so. Fight or flight response kicked in. But hey, if you want me to leave, I can. No harm, no foul. I won’t be offended.”

Castiel sighed. He did need Dean to leave but deep down, that’s not what he wanted. What did he want? 

“Well. I do have things that need to get done today. It’s not that I don’t want you here—I just need to be focused.”

“No I get it. I’m a distraction to you,” Dean smiled. Did he wink? Castiel wasn’t sure but he could tell his face was burning. 

Dean started to laugh as he stood up from the table. 

“Anyways,” Dean continued, “I’ll get out of your hair. Let you do what you need to do. Did you want me to take your plate?” Dean reached out for Castiel’s plate. 

“Thank you,” Castiel said. He stood up and followed Dean back into the kitchen where Dean placed the plates in the sink. 

“Thanks for breakfast, by the way. It was awesome.” 

“I’m glad it was satisfactory for you,” Castiel smiled. Dean walked over to the front door where he began to put on his shoes.

He watched as Dean meticulously tied the laces and put on his leather jacket that Castiel quite enjoyed looking at.  
Castiel allowed himself to stand on the front step while Dean walked outside. 

“Hey, why don’t you park your car inside the garage?” Dean stopped walking to point at Castiel’s car. “That’s kind of what they’re there for.”

“Oh, that. Well,” Castiel leaned back against the door frame, his arms crossed, “the door froze during last winter and when spring rolled around, it busted when I tried to open it. Frankly, I do not have the skills nor the funds to repair it,” he explained.

“I could fix it for you. I’m a handy-repair-man,” Dean smiled.

“I thought you were a police officer.” Castiel lowered his gaze at Dean. 

“I am, but I was a handy-man before I became a cop.” Dean winked at Castiel as he walked over to inspect the door. “You got any tools?”

“You’re asking the English Lit teacher if he has tools.” 

“Rhetorical question, got it,” Dean replied. He sighed as he looked around for a solution. “How about this—I’ll run back to my place and grab some tools and then I’ll come fix this for you, hey? Does that sound good?”

“You don't need to go out of your way, Dean. Really, it’s not that big of an issue.” _The guy just doesn’t give up_ , Castiel thought. 

“Okay, I guess. Let me know if you ever want it fixed.” Dean began to walk towards his car. 

_Fuck_. Castiel could tell Dean was getting the hint. He didn’t mean to sound rude, but he hardly knew the guy. It would be wrong to rush into anything and have regrets. He didn’t want to repeat what happened last time.

“Don’t take offence, Dean. I told you, I’m not good at the whole ‘friend’ thing,” Castiel called after him.

“Don't worry about it. It’s a good thing I am fantastic at making friends.” Dean smiled at him as he opened his car door. “I’ll see you around, Cas.”

The roar of the Impala’s engine echoed in Castiel’s mind for the rest of the day.

He didn’t accomplish much.


	2. Omelettes and Avocados

Come Monday morning, Castiel was up and ready to leave by 7:30 AM. Having already done his run, drank his smoothie and protein shake, ate breakfast, and did everything in between, Castiel felt refreshed and confident. He aired up his bicycle tires the previous night and placed it on his bike rack on his car, ready to go for the morning. 

He managed to keep himself relatively busy yesterday with yard work and prepping his garden for planting, and was pleased that he didn’t think Dean hardly at all. He only thought of him when he looked at his garage door. He fiddled with a few of the hinges for a bit before he gave up. It was useless; he didn’t know what he was doing even if he really tried. Parking his car in the garage would be nice, but Castiel didn’t think it was too important otherwise he would have scavenged up the funds to pay for someone to fix it. 

He arrived a few blocks from the school at 7:50 AM where he took his bike and rode it to the school. Everything was great, the weather, his mood—everything. Nothing could stop him. When he rounded the corner, he nearly ran over a leashed dog. Castiel swerved out of the way, where his tire slipped off the curb, he lost his balance, and fell of his bike. 

“Shit—I’m so sorry—” the man started, “Cas?”

Castiel looked up to see Dean. He huffed as he wiped his pant leg from the dirt and small rocks and stood up, picking up his bike.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry—”

“Don't be,” Castiel interrupted, holding his hand up. “I cut the corner too sharp without looking to see if anyone was there. The fault is mine.” 

“Are you okay though? Do you need me to get you anything? My apartment is just around the corner.”

“No, I should be fine. Thank you. I’m sorry—I have to get going otherwise I’m going to be late for work. Have a good day, Dean.” Castiel mounted his bike and pedalled off towards the school.

“You too,” he heard Dean say after him, but Castiel didn’t bother to look back. 

 

Castiel was lucky to have a spare set of pants in his personal locker for days like this. By the time he made it to the school, one of his knees had bled through his trousers. Nothing serious or life threatening by any means, but it was noticeable. He changed in the staff bathroom and made it in time to his first class. He was never late. And he was never on the dot. He was always _early_ and prepared by the time his students arrive in his classroom. It was understandable when the students looked a little puzzled to see him partially dishevelled and out of breathe from being rushed. He could feel their eyes on him as he went to his desk and pulled out his material and began.

By lunch time, Castiel had gotten back into his routine with more ease. He made himself comfortable at the staffroom table and ate his chicken wrap, (none of his chickens were harmed in the making of this wrap) when an announcement came over the PA system.

_“Mr. Novak, you have a message in the office. Mr. Novak, a message in the office.”_

Castiel put down his wrap and wiped his hands clean. Unsure, he walked over to the office. He rarely got messages. But there, sitting in the office, was Dean; not a message, but a visitor. Why was he here?

“Uhm, hello Dean,” he said as he walked up to him. “What can I do for you?” 

“Hey. I, uh—I just wanted to apologize for my brother’s dog this morning, she really should have been closer to me and I let her go slack and—really, it was my fault. If I hadn’t have let her—”

“It’s okay,” Castiel interrupted. “Don’t worry about it, Dean. I appreciate your concern but there was no harm from it. A scrape and a bruise, but that’s all. I’m not pressing charges.” He smiled at him, knowing he would get the joke. 

“Ah, yes,” Dean laughed. “Well. Thank goodness for that.” He winked at Castiel. At least, that’s what it looked like. Castiel tried not to look like he was staring as he smiled up at Dean, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from him. The light shined perfectly to illuminate the gold flecks in his green eyes, and the scattered freckles on his face. Did he have this many freckles two days ago? A receptionist sneezed, which seemed to break Castiel out of his trance. He cleared his throat.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Dean? I would love to stay and chat but I’m on my lunch and I don’t have much time left before my next class begins.” 

“No—sorry, I should have just left a message with you. Don’t want to waste any more of your time.” He began to step around Castiel for the office door. 

“It’s fine, Dean. Thank you for coming.”

“Yeah, sure.” Dean ducked his head down in what looked like embarrassment and turned and walked out of the office. Castiel sighed and followed. 

“Dean—wait,” he called. Dean turned around where they stood in the middle of a hallway. An empty hallway, which was odd, Castiel thought. Usually the hallways were bustling with students during lunch hour. He checked his watch and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Uhm, I’m sorry Dean, I have to go. I mustn’t have heard the bell. I’m late for my class.” 

Castiel looked back at Dean as he started to jog down the hallway with nothing but a sincere apologetic look on his face. He couldn’t read the look on Dean’s face as he turned the corner of the hallway, making his way back to his classroom.  
His lunch was long forgotten in the staffroom.

————————————— 

By the end of the day, Castiel couldn’t believe how much Dean Winchester got in his head and had made him so turned around. Castiel had never been rushed until today. And never had he ever been late for a class, making today a brand new day for all things. 

When he arrived to his afternoon class, he had forgotten what class he was supposed to be teaching and mistakenly began the class with _Much Ado About Nothing_ , when he should have been discussing the plot and theme of _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Wrong class, wrong grade, wrong _everything_. 

Needless to say, he was happy to be finished when the final bell rang. 

He sat at his desk with assignments open, but not being marked. Instead Castiel sat with his head in his hands, trying to figure out what happened with him today. It was useless to think he would be able to find an answer to his problem so he decided to call it a day. He left his marking on his desk and left the school. 

He biked his way back to his car but stopped at the corner where he fell that morning. Dean said he lived around the corner—not that Castiel was looking for it, but he found Dean’s Impala parked down the road in front of a small apartment building. He half considered the thought of going to see Dean, but thought better of it. There’s no need for distractions like him, considering he already made such a huge impact on Castiel’s day alone. He turned away and went to his car. 

————————————— 

The rest of the week went by relatively fast for Castiel. No green-eyed men got in his way, his classes went smoother, and he taught the correct classes to the correct students—which was good. He still couldn’t believe he did that: teach the wrong class the wrong material. He’s never done that before. Castiel tried not to think about it, but it was still bothering him by Friday. 

After school ended Friday afternoon, Bobby Singer, the PhysEd teacher, invited Castiel out with a few other teachers to go for drinks at the pub down Main Street. Usually Castiel would decline, but he was in need of something a little stronger than his protein shakes.

He met Bobby, Gabriel, and Jo at the Devil’s Trap Hotel & Pub which was known for it’s gang association and bar fights. Castiel would have preferred the pub a little ways down the street; the one that isn’t tainted and wouldn't look as bad to be seen in, if he were seen by any of his students’ parents. Reluctant, he sat down at the booth where the rest of his colleagues were waiting for him.

“Hello everyone,” Castiel said. 

“Glad you could make it out, Castiel,” Jo greeted him. 

“Yes, it’s been some time, I know.” More like ‘the first time in four years Castiel has let himself be out of his routine.’ He never went out. Not since—

“So Castiel, how was your week?” Bobby asked him.

“Uhm, it was interesting to say the least. I managed to screw up not one, but two of my classes and frankly, I’m still recovering from it.”

“What happened?” Gabriel asked, between french fries. 

“I don’t know,” Castiel lied, grabbing one of Gabriel’s fries. Although, he was being partially honest—he didn’t really know what happened, but he did know who was responsible. “I was nearly late for one of my classes—which never happens, by the way—and then after lunch, on the same day, I was late and then I began to teach the wrong material. It was insanity.”

Everyone chuckled. 

“Ah, that’s okay, Castiel. Everybody has days like that,” Jo told him. If it was supposed to make Castiel feel better, it didn’t. Because Castiel wasn’t everybody. And he didn’t have days like that. 

“I suppose it was my turn,” he smiled as everyone laughed. 

The waitress came around and Castiel ordered a light beer. He didn’t feel like getting too involved in the night’s activities but if he didn’t participate, his colleagues would ask questions. And that’s the last thing Castiel needed. 

 

As the evening went on, Castiel lost count of the amount of drinks he ordered—or didn’t order—they just kept appearing in front of him (he has Gabriel to suspect). Castiel doesn’t drink often, so it didn’t take much before his vision was impaired and he wasn’t making coherent sentences. 

He was having fun though, he had to admit. It has been ages since he went out, let alone actually drink anything that was stronger than orange juice. By 10:00 PM it was just him and Bobby left. Jo and had to get home, and Castiel was pretty sure Gabriel couldn’t afford buying him anymore drinks—no matter how amused he was. 

Castiel enjoyed talking to Bobby. He didn’t try to pry any information from Castiel. They talked mostly about work, and the troubling students that come with the job. Castiel was finishing his drink—which has now changed to rum and coke (when did that happen?)—when a familiar voice boomed behind him. 

“Uncle Bobby? Is that you?” Castiel froze.

He closed his eyes in disbelief as Dean Winchester—in uniform—came up to their table. Dean looked just as surprised to see Castiel. Bobby noticed their exchange of looks.

“I’m assuming you two know each other?” He asked, looking at Castiel. 

“Yeah, we’ve bumped into each other a few times,” Dean explained before Castiel could say anything. 

“What are you up to, boy?” Bobby looked at Dean. 

“Oh you know, just making my rounds. We all know this place is notorious for bar fights so I’m trying to make myself present—you know, so that there aren’t any tonight. And you? What are you fine gents up to?” Dean stood at the end of their table, looking like he wanted to sit down and chat but knew that he shouldn’t.

“Drinking,” Castiel finally said. 

“And how much have you had to drink, Mr. Novak?”  
The way Dean said his name made Castiel squirm in his seat. Seeing Dean in his uniform not only made Castiel slightly turned on, but hearing him speak in that tone was very dangerous for Castiel. It also dawned on him that this is the first time that he’s seen Dean in uniform ( _so he really is a cop then_ , Castiel thought). The uniform was tan in colour, and his badge was gold, which rested above his left breast pocket. His pants were black, along with with black combat boots that made him stand a little taller. Castiel eyed up the belt that wrapped around Dean’s hips that carried his 9mm, baton, and handcuffs. He let his eyes linger longer on the handcuffs. 

“Not enough, apparently,” Castiel muttered under his breath, sighed, and then said, “Probably too much.”

“And do you have a ride home, Mr. Novak?” Now he was just toying with him, Castiel could tell. He tried not to make it obvious, but Castiel could feel his groin growing tighter. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. 

“No, but I will manage fine, thanks.”

“I’m not gonna let you leave without a ride home.” 

“I’m not good to drive,” Bobby piped up. “I’m gonna walk—Dean, Castiel.” Bobby stood and excused himself from the table. 

Dean sat himself down across from Castiel and crossed his arms on the table. 

“I’ll take a cab,” Castiel said, trying to avoid Dean’s eyes. 

“You realize that’s like a $50 cab ride, right? Out of towners don’t get a free pass.”

“Yes, I am well aware of the fares, and how much it would cost to get me home.” 

“I could give you a ride, if you want,” Dean suggested. 

“You’re working,” Castiel pointed out. 

“I am.”

“I don’t want to make you go out of your way to bring me home.”

“It’s really not a big deal. I give people rides all the time.” Dean started to laugh. 

“Yeah, to the _station_!” Castiel started to laugh along with him. 

“Hey, I give people rides home too!”

“Yeah, _from_ the station!” Castiel’s shoulders shook and he placed his face in his hands.

“Well, now you’re just assuming things, Mr. Novak!” Dean played. “Come on, I’ll take you home.” 

Dean stood up and waited for Castiel. Castiel didn’t bother to argue; Dean was right—the cab ride home would cost at least $50 and although Castiel hardly paid for a drink tonight, a free ride was more appealing. Castiel stood up and realized that he was drunker than he thought. Unable to hold his balance well, he stumbled into Dean, who caught Castiel and held him upright.

“Woah, okay, Cas. Let’s get you home.” Dean wrapped a hand around Castiel’s waist to help hold him up. 

“That feels nice,” Castiel mumbled, and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“Right,” Dean said. 

 

Castiel must have fallen asleep on the ride home because the next thing he knew, Dean was pulling him out of the car. He mumbled something incomprehensible as he tried to stand himself up. 

“C’mon buddy, just a few more steps,” he heard Dean say. 

“Why’re you s’good to me?” 

Dean coughed and tried to laugh away Castiel’s question. 

“What do you mean, Cas?” They were standing at Castiel’s front door. “Where are your keys?”

Castiel pulled his house keys out from his coat pocket. “Hmm? You’re jus' really great, Dean. I wan’ you to know that.” 

Castiel was too drunk to care when he felt Dean freeze under him. Dean took his keys and unlocked the door.

“Uh, thanks, Cas. Now let’s get you inside.” 

“M’kay.” 

Dean brought Castiel inside, where Castiel directed him to his bedroom. Castiel stumbled on to his bed, fully clothed with his shoes still on. He laid on his back and felt his head spin. He groaned when he realized how shitty he was starting to feel. 

“Tomorrow’s gonna suck,” Dean said. Castiel tried to kick off his shoes, but it was no good. 

“Yes. I reckon it will,” Castiel agreed. He sat up to remove his shoes when he saw Dean crouch down at the foot of his bed.

“May I?” Dean asked.

“Please,” Castiel slurred. He sat lazily and watched Dean as he untied Castiel’s laces gently, putting one of his hands around Castiel’s calf while the other helped pull off his shoe. When both shoes were removed, Castiel could still feel the ghost of Dean’s hands on his legs. Dean stood up took a step back, giving Castiel some space. 

“Well, I guess I’ll let you get some rest,” he said, putting his hands in his pant pockets.

“Okay.” Castiel laid back down and could feel his eyes drooping shut. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime. Have a good sleep, Cas.”

“M’kay. Oh and Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“You look _really_ good in that uniform.”

—————————————

When Castiel woke the next morning, it was 10:27 AM, the latest he had ever slept. When he saw the time, he bolted up in a rush, forgetting about the previous night and immediately regretted moving so fast. He quickly got out of bed and barely made it to the bathroom, where he expelled the contents from last night. 

He ran a hot shower which helped a bit, brushed his teeth, and went back to his bedroom where he saw a glass of water and two Ibuprofen on his nightstand, sitting beside a note. He picked it up with a slightly confused look on his face. It read:

  
_Take the Ibuprofen for the headache, drink the entire glass of water. It was nice seeing you last night. Call me when you want to grab your car. I'll come pick you up._  
— Dean.

Castiel glanced at the number that was left at the bottom of the note. Dean’s personal number, along with his police card with his work number on it. If Castiel was being honest, he didn’t remember seeing Dean last night, let alone getting a ride from him. _What the hell happened last night?_

 

It was nearly 12:00 PM when Castiel found enough courage to call Dean. He wasn’t sure which number to call but he figured he may as well call Dean’s personal number, since he gave it to him. It rang a few times before Dean’s gruff voice answered. 

“Hello?”

“Dean? It’s Castiel.”

“Hey, Cas. How you feeling?” There was rustling on Dean’s end.

“Like I got hit by a bus, stood up, and then hit again.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah I figured you’d feel that way. You take the Ibuprofen?”

“Yes I did, thank you.” 

“No problem.”

There was a brief pause before Castiel confessed. 

“I’m going to be honest, Dean. I don’t actually remember anything from last night. I don’t even remember how I got home.” 

Castiel could practically hear the smile.

“Don’t worry, nothing happened between us if that’s what you’re asking,” Dean teased.

“Wh—What? No, I wasn’t, I—I didn’t—”

“It’s a joke, Cas. Don’t worry about it.”

“Uhm—”

“So you need a ride then? I can be at your place in half an hour if that works for you.”

“Whenever works for you, Dean. I’ll be home all day—not like I can go anywhere,” Castiel laughed lightly.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in a bit then. Just let me get dressed and I’ll be over.”

“Did I wake you?” Castiel asked.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”

“What time was your shift over last night?”

“You mean this morning? I got home at 7:30 AM.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Dean! I had no idea.”

“It’s totally cool, Cas.”

“No, you rest. Why not come by later, I can make you supper? I feel really bad for making you drive all this way to drop me off last night, and picking me up for me to get my car.”

“It’s not a problem. That sounds really great. I’ll bring the tools.”

“The tools?” 

“To fix your garage door,” Dean answered. Castiel smiled.

“I supposed that would work. Do you have any preferences for what to eat?”

“Surprise me.”

—————————————

Dean arrived shortly after 5:00 PM, the sound of the Impala roared as it pulled into Castiel’s driveway. Castiel remained in the kitchen where he was placing the chicken (again, none of his chickens were harmed in the making of this meal) in the oven. Bacon wrapped chicken breasts. He also had linguini waiting to be boiled and an Alfredo sauce simmering on the stove. 

Castiel heard a knock on the door. 

“It’s open!” he called. He looked back as Dean was entering the kitchen, holding a pie. 

“I thought I’d bring something for dessert.” Dean placed the pie on the island counter. 

“It looks delicious,” Castiel praised. 

“Need any help with anything?” Dean walked around the island and stood beside Castiel, who was stirring the sauce. “It smells _amazing_.”

“Thank you. And to answer your question: no. I don’t need any help. I’ve got the chicken in the oven and I just need to wait for the water to boil. The chicken should take about a half hour. I hope that’s okay.”

“Is—is there _bacon_ on the chicken?” Dean was looking into one of Castiel’s double set of ovens. 

“Yes. I thought you would appreciate it.” 

Dean just stared at Castiel without words. Castiel could feel his skin becoming warmer as he blushed.

“They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Dean laughed. This only made the shade of red turn darker on Castiel’s face. 

“Well,” Castiel countered, “if we’re being completely literal, the heart would be more accessible through the fourth and fifth ribs—but that’s just something I read.” Castiel knew the only way he would be able to get out of his embarrassment is to make a joke, while still being completely serious.

Dean burst out laughing, doubling over and placed his hands on his knees as he struggled to gain control of his lungs. 

“Okay, that—that was a good one.” Dean started to laugh again, shaking his head as he turned to sit at the island. 

 

“Wait you _made_ this? Today?” Castiel was taking another bite of Dean’s apple pie. It melted in his mouth and he closed his eyes in satisfaction. It was perfect. “Did you sleep at all after we got off the phone? You must be exhausted.”

“Ah I’m used to it,” Dean replied. “It’s always difficult getting back into the regular routine once I’m off night shifts. It takes a few days.”

“I wouldn’t even know how to function.” Which was true. Castiel depended on his strict routine, and today was the first time he broke it. He didn’t even go for his morning run. 

Dean finished up his pie and sat waiting for Castiel to take his last bite before he got up and took Castiel’s dishes. Castiel watched as he brought the dishes to the sink.

“Alright,” Dean clapped his hands together, “let’s fix that door.”

 

It took all of Dean thirty minutes to fix the garage door. There was nothing wrong with the hinges, although Dean did make sure they were on properly, and tightened, so that they wouldn’t come loose. What really was the problem, wasn’t that it froze during the winter, as they soon found out. Everything seemed to be connected correctly for the door mechanisms, and in working order. Which only made Castiel confused because he knew there was something wrong with it. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have the remote for the door handy, would you?” Dean asked him suddenly, hands busy behind the switch on the wall (which also was not functioning properly), fiddling and adjusting the wires.

“Uhm, yes, it’s inside.”

“You mind getting it? I think I know what’s wrong.”

Castiel left the garage and grabbed the remote that sat unused on the key holder. He brought it over to Dean, who finished with the wall switch. Dean took the remote from Castiel and went to his toolbox. He popped open the back of the remote and placed a fresh battery in. He pushed the button and the garage door opened. Castiel’s mouth dropped open and he looked at Dean, who was smiling at him.

“But—how?”

“Well, the battery died. But the wiring on the wall switch was shit and the connections weren’t properly made, so that’s why you couldn’t open the door from the inside. That’s why you thought there was something wrong with the door. But this,” he held up the remote, “runs off a battery. And it needs to be replaced every few months.”

Castiel looked away, face flushed. _Really? A fucking battery?_

“Well this is highly embarrassing.” 

Dean laughed. “Don’t worry about it. You stick to teaching and cooking and you’ll be fine.” 

Castiel gave Dean a light shove as he started laughing again. Castiel laughed as they stood beside each other. 

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Don’t worry about it. You ready to get your car?”

Half of Castiel didn’t want to because he wanted to spend more time with Dean, but the other half knew he needed to get it at some point. He nodded and they exited the garage. Dean tossed him the remote and Castiel pushed the button, satisfied to see the door close.


	3. Bread and Butter

When Castiel returned home he had a strange feeling. He couldn’t stop _smiling_.

The drive back to get his car was just as entertaining as his visit, and Castiel was sad to see the end of it, when they pulled up in front of the pub. They laughed and talked about small things, but Castiel didn’t deem them unimportant, for their value was just as equal. His favourite detail that Dean shared with him, was that he has a brother, Sam. Sam was a writer and often out of town for book meetings.

“Oh you'd love Sammy,” Dean told him, all smiles. “Yeah, he’s great. It’s a shame he’s not around as much—you and your English majors would get along perfectly.”

“I’d love to meet him some time,” Castiel said, truthfully. Then Castiel remembered the dog. “You said that was _his_ dog that I almost hit, right?”

“Yeah, Sadie. She’s a peach. I’m not much of a dog person, really. I’m somewhat allergic—itchy skin, nothing serious—but whenever Sammy leaves town, he drops her on me. I love her, don’t get me wrong, she’s great.” Dean started to laugh. “Okay, now I’m rambling. You talk about something stupid.”

“I don’t think this is stupid, Dean. I think it’s nice.” Castiel looked over at Dean who gave him a small smile. Castiel continued, “I’m more of a cat person myself, but I haven’t found one that won’t eat the chickens.”

Dean barked out a laugh. “You do realize it’s in their nature to do that right? Besides, cats are assholes.”

“I find them very comforting, actually. They don’t require nearly as much attention as dogs do but still serve as company—”

“Yeah when they’re not trying to eat your face,” Dean argued lightly. Castiel could see he was trying to hide a smile and be serious, which only made Castiel chuckle to himself. 

The evening was clear, as the day was, and the sun was setting over the town of Garrison Falls. It left an orange glow on everything it touched and Castiel could see the flecks in Dean’s eyes again. 

“Do you have any siblings?” Dean asked, turning to look at him. 

“Uhm, yes. I have two brothers; Michael and Gabriel, and a sister; Anna.”

“Are you guys close?”

“Gabriel and I are. He’s a teacher as well—at the prep-school. He teaches Drama and Theology.” Castiel smiled to himself. “It suits him. Michael and Anna are twins, and they’ve always been close. But they’ve always differed from Gabriel and I. It’s caused a lot of tension.”

“I get it—me and Sam? _Super_ close. But, we’ve also had our differences. With our parents gone, it was just us—hell, it’s _still_ just us. So we had to figure out a way to deal with our shit that wouldn’t cause us never seeing each other again.” Dean stared straight ahead, eyes focused. 

“You lost your parents?” 

“Yeah—about fifteen years ago,” Dean explained, “it was bad. It’s why I became a cop. My parents were hit by a drunk driver. Mom didn’t make it to the hospital and dad was in a coma for a few weeks before he died.”

“I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.” 

“Yeah…It’s all good though, don’t worry about it. Let’s talk about something else though. Dead parent talk isn’t much of a conversation.” 

They talked about their hobbies, Dean explained that he loves to hunt, fish, and be outdoors at all times when he wasn't working. Castiel laughed when he thought that Dean is the complete opposite of him. But, Dean said when he decides to stay inside, he loves to bake, as Castiel could tell by the amazing work of the pie that Dean brought.

“What do you like to do on your free time? Or is that something that teachers don’t get?” Dean teased.

“I bake too—bread, mostly—and I enjoy being outside. I garden and take care of my chickens,” Castiel smiled to himself and said, “I’m in the process of acquiring some bees.”

“Bees?” Dean looked at him. “Seriously?”

“The bees are extremely important, Dean.” 

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “I suppose they are.”

The Impala rolled into the town limits and they were not far from the pub. Castiel wished he lived farther out of town so the drive would have been longer. He sighed quietly to himself when Dean pulled up beside his car, the heavy Impala lurched forward as it stopped. 

There was a moment of silence, as Castiel thought that maybe Dean didn’t want to leave either. But he knew he would have to get out of the car eventually. He wrapped his hand around the handle and pulled, looking back at Dean as he did so.

“Thank you for the ride, Dean. Last night and now. And for fixing my sad excuse for a broken garage door.” 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” Dean tapped at Castiel’s arm in reassurance. “Thank you for supper.”

“Yes, it was nice. The pie was great.” Now Castiel could tell that they were both stalling. He placed a foot on the ground outside the car and Dean spoke again. 

“Hey, uh—what are you doing tomorrow?” Castiel’s stomach fluttered.

“Uhm, it’s the Farmer’s Market tomorrow—every couple of weeks I bake bread and sell it,” Castiel told him. 

“That’s cool. Maybe I’ll stop by. I don’t do much on my days off.” 

“That would be nice. Maybe I’ll see you.” He put both feet on the ground and stepped out of the car. He leaned down and looked at Dean.

“Thank you again, for everything.”

“Anytime,” Dean smiled at him. 

Castiel stood up and shut the door. Dean pulled away from the curb and drove down the street. Castiel held his keys in his hands and was about to unlock his car when he noticed a piece of paper on his windshield. 

_Of course_ , Castiel thought. _A parking ticket_. 

When Castiel pulled the ticket off from under his wipers, he smiled at it. It was filled out as a normal ticket would be, but for the amount of the ticket, it said $0, and the officer signing was Officer Dean Winchester. He turned the ticket over to see Dean’s scrawl, likely done in the dark the night before. 

  
_Thought I’d put an empty ticket on your car so you wouldn’t get a real one.  
— Dean._  


Castiel folded the ticket and placed it under his visor. He smiled the whole way home.

—————————————

Castiel’s alarm went off at 6:00 AM Sunday morning, which was early, he had to admit, but he had bread to make before getting to the market at 10:00 AM. He woke up refreshed, and ready to impress the townsfolk again with his skilled baking. He skipped his morning run—another break in his routine. He brushed his teeth and made his way to the kitchen where the flour and the remaining ingredients were already out, Castiel having prepped the kitchen the previous night. 

He began making the dough, adding flour and water as it was needed. Castiel stirred everything together in a very large bowl, and covered the dough with a couple of towels to let it rise. He got his bread pans out and began to coat them with lard. Placing his hand with a paper towel, he rubbed the lard over every corner and surface inside the pans. He was planning on making twelve loaves of bread and felt grateful that his house came with two ovens. 

While he waited for the dough to rise, he pulled out his phone and opened a new message.

 **Castiel** : Thank you for the parking ticket.  
(6:53 AM)

He looked at the time and noticed the time he sent the message and realized Dean likely wouldn’t even be awake to respond. He sat scrolling though social media, not bothered by the fact that Dean wasn’t replying. He shouldn’t have texted him so early. He was surprised when he the text notification came up for Dean’s number. 

**Dean Winchester** : No worries ;)  
You making your bread?  
(6:58 AM)

 **Castiel** : Yes, I am waiting for the dough to rise.  
(6:58 AM)

 **Castiel** : It's a tedious occupation.  
(6:59 AM)

 **Castiel** : Why are you up this early?  
(6:59 AM)

 **Dean Winchester** : Getting ready for work.  
I got called in.  
(7:01 AM)

Castiel’s heart sank a little when he realized that meant he likely won’t see Dean at the Farmer’s Market. He put his phone down and covered his face with his hands in disbelief. _Why_ was he feeling like this? This is the last thing Castiel needs right now: _feelings_. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with this thumb and index finger. Whatever, Castiel thought. Just let it go. 

 

Castiel spent the remaining time waiting for his dough to rise by visiting his chickens. He sat in the chair outside the coop and casually threw seed in for them to eat, not really paying attention to the direction he was throwing it. He watched them peck at the ground, sighing when he realized this wasn’t doing him any good. When he went back inside, the clock read 7:32 AM, which meant he still had about a half hour before he could start kneading the bread. He sighed and sat back down at the table, not even bothering to look at his phone. He was frustrated with himself that he allowed his emotions to take over, even for just a little bit. 

When the dough was ready, (8:00 AM) he floured the table so that it wouldn’t stick and grabbed a large portion of the dough and slammed it into the table. He put all of his frustration with himself into the dough, as he kneaded and folded it over and over. He focused on the way it felt beneath his hands as he pressed it down with his knuckles, the cool dough forming around in between his fingers, sticking slightly. He slapped away air bubbles and flicked them as they surfaced. 

He placed all of the dough in their pans and covered all twelve with the towels to let them rise some more. He left them for about an hour and turned on the ovens before they were ready. Ten minutes later, he placed six pans in the top oven, and six in the bottom. He set the timer for thirty-five minutes. 

Now he had nothing to occupy himself with. 

He looked at his phone and saw that Dean sent a text a while ago. 

**Dean Winchester** : Hope the bread making is going well.  
I can’t wait to try some.  
(7:42 AM)

 **Dean Winchester** : I bet it’s amazing.  
(7:42 AM)

Castiel smiled into his phone. What the hell? _Stop smiling you idiot_ , he thought. But it was useless. He shook his head as he realized he couldn’t stop himself. 

**Castiel** : If you’re able to stop by the market today, I can let you have a taste.  
(8:39 AM)

Castiel froze after he noticed what that may have looked like. He wasn’t trying to sound like he was flirting with Dean. In fact that’s the last impression he wanted to give Dean, regardless of what his feelings may be about him. Panic was starting to unravel as he waited for a response. 

The next thing Castiel received was a photo. Dean, in his uniform, giving Castiel a look that made him stifle a moan. He was sitting in his squad car, the light shining perfectly in his eyes—not that it mattered, because Dean made them glower. His lips were slightly parted, enough for Castiel to be able to see the light glisten on his tongue. His hair was partially tousled and one of his eyebrows was slightly raised as if to say _“oh yeah?”_ and it took all of Castiel not to shove his hand down his pants right there. He sucked in a breath when he read the caption.

 **Dean Winchester** : Oh I want a taste.  
(8:41 AM)

—————————————

Castiel arrived at the Farmer’s Market late—highly unusual behaviour for Castiel, but he had his reasons: 

He stared at the picture for ten minutes before setting his phone down and checking on the bread. The timer had twenty-one minutes remaining. He hated that he felt he needed to relieve himself, but his cock was hardening by the second. At first, he felt embarrassed by it, but then he thought, _why else would Dean send a picture like that, if he didn’t think he would react to it?_

He felt no shame in bringing his phone into the bedroom with him as he stroked himself to a full erection. He thought about how those full lips tasted and what it would feel like if Dean’s tongue slid alongside his. A deep groan settled in the back of his throat when the thought of Dean’s rough hands touching him came to mind. He wrapped his hand tighter around his cock, moving it faster. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back into his pillow, letting the feeling take over. 

_**Oh I want a taste.** _

Castiel’s breathing started to become uneven as warmth pooled in the base of his stomach. The image of Dean tasting him, with his full lips wrapped around Castiel’s cock kept flashing across the back of his eyelids. 

_**I want.** _

Castiel took his free hand to move his shirt up his body, exposing his stomach. He was close. 

_**A taste.** _

_"Fuck,”_ Castiel breathed. He began to move his hand faster. He opened his eyes to look at the picture one more time, and seeing Dean’s darkened stare sent him over the edge. “Oh _fuck!_ ” 

His body convulsed as it brought him to his orgasm, hot come spreading across his bare stomach. He stroked himself to the end, until his breathing started becoming normal. He laid back for a few moments, letting himself be completely satisfied. 

He got up and washed his hands and stomach free of his mess. He looked in the mirror, his skin still flushed from pleasure. It was the first time in a long time that Castiel had an urge like that. He leaned into the bathroom counter, trying to come up with some sort of thought process as to what the fuck just happened, but the timer went off in the kitchen, and he left the thoughts in the bathroom. 

 

The bread came out perfect: golden and crisp. Castiel coated the tops of the loaves with butter and let them cool on the counter before he bagged them. Castiel didn’t notice the time until he was ready to leave, only seeing that the clock read 9:51 AM—and he still had twenty minutes to drive, plus set up his booth. He rushed out the door, carrying all twelve loaves of bread. 

He arrived ten minutes late, and brought his loaves to his table, where he set up his bread. He hung his makeshift sign over the edge of the table. _Homemade Bread $6.00/loaf_. He sat for a few moments, trying not to worry about being late. But lately, that was all he worried about. 

His routines were breaking. He was running late. He was _different_. And this wasn’t based on the fact that he just fucked his hand with the thoughts of Dean Winchester floating in his mind, no. But it was about Dean. And Castiel wasn’t sure what it was about him that was changing the very things he felt he depended on.

His phone buzzed. Castiel pulled it out to see a text from Dean. 

**Dean Winchester** : I get my lunch break early. I hope you’re already at the market.  
(10:43 AM) 

**Castiel** : I’m here. Better hurry, I’ve almost sold out…  
(10:44 AM)

 **Dean Winchester** : Don’t you dare let a person that isn’t me buy the last loaf.  
(10:44 AM)

 **Dean Winchester** : I’m on my way.  
(10:45 AM) 

Dean arrived at Castiel’s booth within fifteen minutes—the benefits of a small town, was that it didn’t really take long to get anywhere. Castiel kept himself occupied with a few customers, being friendly and endearing, something that people didn’t really see. (Not that he wasn’t friendly to strangers—he’s just awkward. But today was different). When Dean was next in line, anything that Castiel was thinking went out the window.

“Hey,” Dean said, smiling. 

Castiel tried very hard not to think about his actions two hours ago, but it was hard not to—Dean stood in front of him wearing his uniform that only brought out the best in him. The uniform was a button down tee shirt—different from the long sleeved one Castiel (who cannot recall) encountered when Dean brought him home. His biceps where rounded perfectly and the tension on the shirt was brought up towards Dean’s chest, that Castiel could tell was firm just by looking at it. Castiel brought himself to his senses. 

“Good morning, Dean,” he said casually. _Yeah, be casual. Act cool._

“The bread looks amazing.” Dean pointed. 

“Thank you.” Castiel picked up a bag—one of two left, so Dean should feel lucky not having to fight over it. “Take it.”

Dean pulled out his wallet to pay Castiel. 

“Don’t,” Castiel stopped him. 

“It’s $6.00, Cas. I’m fine with paying for it. You made it, I’ll pay.”

“It’s fine, honestly. I want you to have it.” Castiel looked at him earnestly. 

Dean paused. “Do you wanna go grab something to eat? I know a place not far from here with _the best_ burgers.” 

Castiel blinked. Well that was not what he was expecting.

“Uhm, I would like that a lot, but I have to stay until I’ve sold everything,” he replied. 

Dean looked down at the last loaf on the table.

“I’ll take it,” Dean smiled. 

 

Castiel packed up the remains of his booth and put everything away in his car. Dean walked with him, then guided him down the street from the market towards _**Ellen’s**_ , a diner on the corner of Main Street. 

When they arrived inside, a voice called at Dean as a lady with shoulder-length-beginning-to-grey hair came out from the kitchen.

“Ellen!” Dean boomed. She came over and wrapped her arms around Dean as best as she could. 

“Haven’t seen you in here for a while, young man!”

Dean smiled down at her. “Yeah well, I’ve been keeping busy, that’s all.”

She nodded and said, “So the usual for today then?”

“Two, please.” 

Ellen glanced over at Castiel and Castiel wasn’t sure if he saw her give Dean a look, but she smiled and turned back towards the kitchen.

“I thought you said you didn’t know anyone in this town,” Castiel commented. They sat themselves in a booth, sitting across from each other, while a waitress brought them coffee.

“So what? I know like _five_ people who live here, sue me.” 

“Who all do you know?” Castiel was curious. He grabbed a few sugar packets and added them to his coffee along with a couple creamers. He stirred his coffee as he listened to Dean’s voice.

“Well, there’s Bobby Singer—who you know—he kind of raised Sammy and me after our parents died, so he’s family to us. And Ellen Harvelle—the owner of this place—she’s digging it in deep with Bobby, if you know what I mean,” Dean laughed at himself, “And her daughter—”

“Jo,” Castiel interrupted. “I know her. She works at the school as well.”

Castiel found it odd that the two people he worked with, and associated with more than his other coworkers—aside from Gabriel—were extremely close with Dean. He continued to stir his coffee even though it likely didn’t need it any longer.

“Yeah, yeah, she does,” Dean nodded. “She’s like a sister to me. The sister I never had, you could say. Or wanted, actually.” Dean grimaced. “Let’s just say she’s a little rough around the edges.”

Castiel smiled, “I wouldn’t know, I don’t know her that well. But she seems nice.”

“When she wants something, she is. Anyways, and of course there’s Sammy—he lives a few blocks away from me. When he’s home though, he practically lives with me. Which is a shame—he can be kind of a slob sometimes—and I don’t like mess.” He laughed lightly.

“And the last?”

Dean took a sip from his black coffee and looked at Castiel through his lashes. A shiver ran down Castiel’s spine that he had to try very hard not to make noticeable. 

“Well…there’s _you_ ,” Dean answered, placing his cup down and holding it between both of his hands. 

Castiel smiled. Before he could give an answer, the waitress brought their food. The “usual” according to Dean. It looked fantastic, Castiel had to admit. The best burger he ever tasted, and Dean was right—it was. 

Halfway into their meal, Dean’s phone buzzed.

He sighed and looked up at Castiel. 

“I have to go. So much for a lunch break. Duty calls.”

“Understandable,” Castiel replied. 

Dean pulled out a couple twenties, enough to cover both of their meals, coffees, and the tip, and placed them on the table under his plate. 

“I’ll text you later, how’s that sound?” Dean stood up, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s.

“Sounds great, Dean. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Count on it.” Another wink, and Dean turned his body and left the restaurant. 

Oh he will.


	4. Headstones and Broken Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor violence, but fluffy hurt comfort at the end :)

When Castiel got home, he cleaned up the kitchen that he left a mess from rushing that morning. He washed his bread pans by hand and soaked the dough bowl for a while before he was able to get any of the dried dough off. Once the kitchen was clean, Castiel put on shorts and different tee shirt, and went outside to go for a run. _Finally_ went for a run. He has never missed a day. It’s been such a long time, that he doesn’t even remember. 

With it being close to noon, the sun was beaming down bright and hot—summer had barely started, which means it was only going to get hotter from here on. It wasn’t long before Castiel could feel the sweat dripping off his face, his shirt sticking to his chest and back. He kept running. He ran past his 2.5km marker, unaware of where his legs were taking him. He kept running, father than he’s ran in ages. Castiel had no destination set out for his run, but he could feel a lingering twinge in his stomach when he realized where he was. Or where he was close to. He hadn’t been this far out in nearly a year. The only place he visited twice a year: the cemetery. 

He slowed his run to a walk. The gate to the cemetery was only a few hundred yards away. Despite running, his breathing was still even. But his chest was aching—and it wasn’t from the running. He figure that if he ran this far, he might as well keep going. He walked up to the gate and opened it. He paced himself and wandered to where he knew _he_ would be. 

He walked to the edge of the cemetery where he stood in front of a slate headstone, a somber look on his face. He brought himself down to sit cross-legged in front of it. He sighed to himself as he said, “Hello, Balthy.”

_Balthazar Novak  
June 28th, 1976—September 4th, 2013  
Loving husband and son_

“Uhm, I know I’m a bit early—you’re birthday isn’t for another month,” Castiel told him. “I actually don’t know what brought me here. Maybe there’s a part of me deep down that wants to tell you that I’ve—I…”

Castiel couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t tell him that he met someone. Someone new. And for once actually felt _good_ about this one person, unlike others that were hopeful, but not right. (Technically speaking, there wasn’t anything serious going on between him and Dean, but Castiel liked to think that maybe, just _maybe_ —there could be. And that was what scared him. He didn’t feel like he had the right to tell his dead husband that he met someone else). Tears started to well in his eyes, as guilt tried to show itself. 

Castiel sighed again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry that I don’t come and visit you more. I know you would probably like it if I did. I miss you.”

He started to play with the grass, pulling it out and throwing it back on the ground, sniffling all the while.

“The truth is, Balthazar, is that…I think I’ve met someone. I—I don’t know what he means to me yet but I really want to find out. And I guess I didn’t realize _how_ much I wanted to find out until I was standing in front of the cemetery, wanting to tell you all about him.

“His name is Dean,” Castiel continued, “Dean Winchester. And he’s a cop, like you. I guess you could say I have a type,” he let out a soft laugh. “He’s really nice. Caring, beautiful…I could probably go on forever about his face alone, but I don’t want to make you jealous.”

He sat there contemplating what he wanted to say next. He moved his body into a half laying position, on his side, resting his head in his left hand that was held up by his elbow. 

“I don’t know if it’ll turn into anything, but…maybe you could meet him someday. I would really like you to meet him.” Castiel smiled at the thought of that. “Dean stumbled into my life only a few weeks ago, and in that time, I’ve been happier. And just thought that maybe you’d want to know. I don’t know. Maybe I sound crazy or stupid. But things just keep happening between us and I can’t tell if it’s fate or something else.”

Castiel moved his body again, only to lay on his back with his head resting on the headstone, where he stayed for over an hour, telling Balthazar all that has happened between him and Dean. Their first encounter, Dean sleeping in his car outside his house, (“Which I was terrified about, you should know. I wasn’t sure if he was there to save me or to kill me. He hasn’t killed me yet so I’m gonna go with ‘saved me’.”), and Dean fixing the garage door. Castiel knew Balthazar would laugh at how ridiculous the whole ordeal was. Eventually when Castiel was spent from just talking, he said goodbye to Balthazar, kissing the headstone before he turned away. 

“I’ll see you on your birthday. I love you.”

—————————————

“Look’s like someone got some sun yesterday!” a familiar voice called behind him. 

Castiel was walking down the hallway in the school Monday morning, on his way to his second period class. He turned around to see Dean, in his goddamn uniform _again_ , walking towards him. 

“Do you ever stop working?” Castiel countered, hoping that it didn’t sound rude. It’s not that he _didn’t_ want to see Dean in his uniform because by fucking god, did he ever. “Wait—why are you even here?”

Dean laughed at Castiel’s confused complexion.

“Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you.” Castiel rolled his eyes at that remark. “I’m doing a presentation for the assembly today,” Dean explained. 

“Oh. Right, I forgot about that. Well, good luck. I would stay and chat a bit but—” 

“Don’t want to make you late for your class, I know. Now get outta here,” Dean smiled. “I’ll see you at the assembly.”

 

Castiel brought his class to the gymnasium after the announcement came over the PA system for the assembly. His students were his Grade 11 AP Creative Writing class who were all well respected by the staff. Most of Castiel’s students were. They arrived in the gymnasium and sat on the bleachers. Castiel, knowing that his students would behave themselves on their own, sat in the bottom row while his students dispersed throughout the other students. There were a few more classes that came into the gym just as Castiel could see Dean and Principle Rufus Turner making their way to the centre of the gym. Dean had a headset microphone, while Rufus held a mic in his hands. 

“Is this thing on?” Castiel could hear through the speakers as Dean muttered to himself. Castiel chuckled. “Guess so.”

“Good morning everyone,” Rufus started. “Today we have a special guest here to give us a presentation burglaries and theft, and ways to safely prevent them. Please welcome Officer Dean Winchester.”

The audience clapped as Dean stood still, waving bashfully to the students, eyes stopping on Castiel. 

“Hey everyone. Uh, like Principle Turner said, my name is Officer Winchester. It has come to our attention at Garrison Falls Police Department that there have been multiple break-ins and burglaries in the last six weeks.”

The students were silent as they listened to Dean continue.

“I’m here today to give you guys some things you can do to make sure that it doesn’t happen to you, alright?”

Some students nodded along. 

Dean went on to explain different locks and alarms that are available. With a town as small as Garrison Falls, it was unlikely that many of the residents locked their doors at night. And the ones that do end up getting broken windows. He walked around the gym, keeping the students’ attention in check. He talked with his hands a lot, which Castiel thought was endearing. 

“In the event that the intruder is still in the house upon your arrival,” Dean explained, “call 911 immediately. If you are unable to make the call, try to find a safe place to do so. Even if you make the call and hide the phone, we’ll trace the call. We’ll come find you.” He paused. “But, there are instances where you may have to defend yourself. Most burglars don’t want to harm you. Some don’t care what happens to you, just as long as they get what they came for. In the event where you may find yourself in a physical altercation with the burglar, you will need to defend yourself.”

The students were still. Their attention and eyes on Dean like he was the last thing they were going to look at. 

“If I could have Mr. Novak come up please.” 

Castiel froze, eyes wide. He sucked in a breath when Dean looked right at him, his eyes glowering—who quirked up a smile in a way that should not be done publicly. He sat there, staring back at Dean as if to say, _what the fuck are you doing, Dean?_

“Come on, Mr. Novak! Let’s show the kids how to do some moves!” Dean tried to usher Castiel up with a swing of his arm. Some of the students cheered him on. 

Castiel sheepishly stood up, wiping his palms on his trousers. He removed his suit jacket and folded it on his seat. He undid his cuff buttons and rolled up his sleeves, shaking his head at Dean as he walked up to him. He could see Dean eyeing him up from head to toe and it took everything Castiel had to restrain himself. 

“Alright Mr. Novak,” Dean said. “Do you know what you would have to do if a burglar were to attack you?”

Castiel sighed. He really didn’t want to address the entire fucking school. 

“Run fast enough to get away,” he answered and shrugged. Dean chuckled, along with some of the students. Castiel is downplaying Dean because Dean doesn’t know that Castiel had Balthazar to teach him defensive moves. Although, if Castiel had the opportunity, he really would run. And he knew he would be able to outrun whoever was after him—for a long while. He didn’t like altercations and would try to prevent them as much as possible.

“Okay,” Dean replied, “but let’s say the attacker came up from behind you, and grabbed you? Then what would you do?” 

“I don’t know, maybe head-butt them? Bite them? Do anything to get them to let me go? There could be endless possibilities as to how it could end.”

“Those are good examples, Mr. Novak. Would you mind helping me demonstrate an example to the students?”

Castiel muttered quiet enough so he knew only Dean would hear, “Not really, Dean.” But he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no in front of all of the students so he faked a grin and said, “Sure, Officer Winchester. I would be _happy_ to help.”

Dean smirked as he walked around Castiel, making Castiel nervous.

“Alright then,” Dean said. “I’m gonna show you something that’ll help get you out if someone were to grab you from behind.”

Dean demonstrated to Castiel and the students a technique that makes it harder for intruders to keep hold on their victims. He told Castiel that when he comes from behind in a chokehold, to bring his left arm up and swing it overtop of Dean’s arms, bringing them down, and that will give Castiel the advantage of hitting Dean and running off. 

Castiel breathed deeply when Dean walked around him. He realized Dean’s mic was off when Dean whispered from behind him.

“Okay, I’m going to place my hands on your shoulders, alright? A chokehold is generally around the throat, but I don’t think we’re ready to take that step yet.”

Castiel’s face went hot. Even though he knew the students didn’t hear what Dean said to him, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. He felt Dean’s hands on his shoulders, warm and firm. 

Castiel took a deep breath before he swung his arm around and sharply pushed down on Dean’s arms, surprising him. Castiel then fake punched him and ran off, making the students laugh. Dean turned his mic back and it boomed throughout the gym.

“Good! That was good, Ca—Mr. Novak.” 

Principle Turner walked up to Dean and shook his hand. He held up the mic and addressed the students to thank Dean for coming in to present to them.

It was close to lunch and Rufus let the students leave early, which meant the teachers got to too. Castiel walked up to Dean as the students were filing out of the gymnasium, putting on his suit jacket. He did not miss (for the second time) Dean looking him over and he tried not to blush. 

He walked up just as Rufus was inviting Dean to have lunch in the staffroom with them.

“Ah, I wish I could. But I have to get back to the station. Thank you, though,” Dean replied.

“Next time then,” Rufus said, shaking Dean’s hand. He then walked off, talking to some students along the way.

Dean looked at Castiel.

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Dean said, quickly apologizing.

“A little heads up would have been preferable but it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Castiel stood closer to Dean. 

“Hey, uh—I’m done work in a few hours, as I know you are too, and um—would you, I—I dunno. Never mind.” Dean looked away.

“Would I what, Dean?”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, avoiding Castiel’s eyes. 

“Would you like to come to my place for dinner?”

He finally looked up at Castiel, his eyes searching for an answer.

“Yes,” Castiel answered, smiling. “I would love to.”

Relief washed over Dean’s face. 

“Awesome. But hey—I gotta go, so I’ll see you later!” Dean turned and started walking towards the exit of the gym. 

“Looking forward to it!” Castiel called. Dean turned and flashed him a smile that Castiel hasn’t seen yet. It made his stomach flutter and he found his own face lighting up. 

At this point, he wasn’t even going to deny it: he had feelings for Dean Winchester.

—————————————

After school, Castiel walked his way towards Dean’s apartment. Dean texted him the address but Castiel remembered where he saw Dean’s car that one day. It only took him about ten minutes to get there, but he decided to grab something to bring, so he walked to the liquor store an extra block away. He picked out a nice bottle of red wine, although he wasn’t sure what Dean would like, so he also got a case of beer. 

He was standing in front of Dean’s door; apartment C2. He knocked on the door. A confused look was placed on his face when _not_ Dean opened the door. Instead, it was a tall man with broad shoulders and chin-length chocolate hair swept behind one ear. His face was freshly shaved and he smelled of pine. 

“Uhm, I must have the wrong apartment, my apologies,” Castiel said, turning away.

“You’re Cas, right?” the man asked.

“Yes?” He turned back to face the man.

The man turned and called behind him, “Dean, your boyfriend is here!” 

He shot a smile and a wink at Castiel who froze in his place, face red, and his heart pounding in his chest. The man brought a finger up to his lips which told Castiel that he needed to be quiet. The man started laughing. Castiel could see a shadow move inside the apartment and a tea towel came out of nowhere and whipped the guy on the arm. The man yelled in defence held his arms up in surrender. 

“He’s not my boyfriend—I told you that, Sammy. Stop being a twat.” Dean opened the door all the way and smiled at Castiel. “Sorry about my brother, he likes to be annoying.”

Dean’s face was red, likely just as red as Castiel’s and Castiel smiled sincerely. 

“It’s _Sam_.” Sam called back, correcting Dean. He walked to the living room and plopped himself on the couch. 

“Don’t worry, I know all about annoying siblings, remember? I have three.” Castiel laughed lightly as he walked through the door. He explained to Dean that he didn’t know what to bring for drinks so he got something that either of them could enjoy. 

Dean cracked open a beer and grabbed a wine glass for Castiel. 

“Supper will be ready in a bit. You wanna go sit?” Dean pointed to the living room. 

“Sure.”

Dean led the way to the living room. The apartment was fair sized, enough for two people to live comfortably together—even though Sam didn't live there, Castiel remembered Dean’s remark when he told him Sam pretty much did when he was home from his book touring.

They sat and talked for a long while until the timer in the kitchen went off. Dean insisted Castiel stay sitting in the living room when Castiel asked if he needed any help in the kitchen. Sam and Castiel talked about their work; Castiel fascinated with Sam’s ability to write and actually make a living from it; Sam impressed with Castiel’s ability not to strangle his students. 

“I don’t think I could be a teacher,” Sam commented. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I loved school as a kid—”

“Yeah because he was a nerd!” Dean called from the kitchen. 

“Shut up.” Sam laughed. 

Castiel smiled.

“But seriously,” Sam continued, “You have to have a special kind of patience to teach kids and I think it’s great that you have that.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Castiel replied, blushing slightly at the compliment. 

Castiel liked Sam. He felt very comfortable around him despite his intentions to embarrass Dean upon Castiel’s arrival. 

He found that he couldn’t stop smiling the entire time he was there.

 

Dinner was fantastic. Dean made roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob. It was _amazing_. Castiel was so full afterwards, but couldn’t resist a slice of Dean’s apple pie. He knew he would likely regret it, but for now it was _completely_ worth it. 

Castiel left Dean’s apartment at around 9:00 PM. The sun was nearly set, the street lights illuminating the streets with a yellow-orange glow. Castiel walked to his car, which wasn’t parked far. His steps were lighter, and his chest was swelling with _feelings_.

Those feelings went away when he pulled into his driveway. 

As Castiel pulled in, he noticed that a black van was parked in front of his house, and no, he wasn’t expecting anybody. His front door was also open and one of his windows was broken. Castiel pulled out his phone and dialled Dean’s number. He shut off his car and hoped to God that whoever was inside didn’t hear him drive in.

“Miss me already, sugar?” Dean answered, teasingly. If it wasn’t for the circumstances, Castiel would really like to hear him say that again. 

“Dean,” he breathed. “There are people at my house—they’re _inside_ my house. Dean I need help.”

The lightness in Dean’s voice went away immediately and was replaced with concern.

“How many?”

“I—I don’t know, I’m still in my car.” His voice was starting to shake. 

“I’m on my way. Stay in the car,” Dean ordered. “I’ll be there soon.” 

The line went dead and Castiel was really starting to panic. He could see movement inside his house. People who were not invited in were rummaging through his things, and not just _his_ things, but Balthazar’s as well. And that was making Castiel very upset. 

He gripped the steering wheel tight because he had nothing else to really hold on to. 

He stopped breathing when three men emerged from his house, carrying out his safe—likely because they couldn’t get it open. He wasn’t going to let them take it. He couldn’t.

His brain decided it was a good idea to get out of the car. He needed to stop them from taking it. Everything he had left of Balthazar’s that he couldn’t bear to part with was inside that safe. When he stepped out of his car, the men looked up. They obviously didn’t hear Castiel pull up because they were just as startled as he was. They all looked at each other, trying to decide what to do. 

Castiel began walking up to the path towards the house, stopping in front of the men. His breathing was rapid and his heart pounded with fear, faster than he could ever remember happening before. The men put down the safe and approached Castiel. 

“We don’t want to hurt you. It’s best you just leave,” one of them said, voice deep and unrecognizable. 

“Well I don’t fucking want you taking that safe,” Castiel replied, trying to sound threatening but realized he likely sounded like a pubescent boy.

Another man stepped into Castiel’s personal space and pushed him back. Castiel stumbled slightly but regained his balance. Out of nowhere, Castiel found his fist flying and hitting the man sharply on the nose. 

Castiel was given a punch in return which caused his nose to start bleeding immediately. The man punched him again and pain seared through his mouth. He could taste iron as blood swept across his tongue. Another man grabbed Castiel from behind, to which he countered with the move that Dean demonstrated that morning. This took them by surprise, but they were quicker than he was and Castiel felt the blow as it hit his lower rips, knocking the wind out of him. 

He crouched down onto the ground, holding his stomach. Just then, he could hear the faint sounds of sirens. The men froze for a split second before they all hopped in the van, rocks spitting as the tires spun. They left the safe behind. 

 

“Going all kamikaze or what?” Castiel heard Dean call out to him as he got out of the Impala. Other officers were arriving and inspecting the scene.  
Dean approached Castiel and helped him up. 

“You just missed them,” Castiel told him. 

“Let me look at you.”

“I’m fine.” He brushed Dean’s hand away. But Dean was persistent and placed his hands on either side of Castiel’s face, examining the damage. Castiel had to admit that it felt nice. 

“I’ll be right back,” Dean said. He left for a brief moment, bringing back a cloth with him.

Dean held up the dampened cloth and wiped Castiel’s face clean of the blood that was beginning to stick under his nose. He brought the cloth down and wiped the dirt off of Castiel’s neck. The cut on Castiel’s lip was still bleeding slightly and Dean took his thumb and wiped across it. Castiel sucked in a breath when Dean looked down at his lips. It was only a brief second that he looked, before he spoke. 

“I thought I told you to stay in the car.”

“Yeah, well. I tried.” Castiel licked his lip, tasting the blood. He didn’t feel like explaining why he lost his mind over the safe.

Dean pulled Castiel into a hug, holding him tightly, arms wrapped around his shoulders. Castiel paused and then reciprocated, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist, and burying his face in the nook of Dean’s neck and shoulder. 

Dean insisted to the other officers that he will bring Castiel into the station in the morning where they can get his statement. Dean brought Castiel inside where he sat Castiel on the couch. He wrapped a blanket around Castiel’s shoulders and brought him a glass of water. 

“Thank you, Dean.” 

Dean only smiled softly and put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, rubbing it gently. 

"You got anything to board up that window?"

Castiel looked around the room and pointed to the back porch.

"In there," he said. "There should be some cardboard."

"Okay. I'm going to fix the window, alright?"

Castiel nodded and drank some more of his water. 

When Dean returned, he was holding a mug of tea. He handed it to Castiel and sat down beside him.

“Thought it would do better than just water,” he explained. 

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said again. He took a sip of his tea and recognized it as chamomile. “This should help me sleep.”

“Yeah, I thought that was the right tea.” 

When Castiel was finished with his tea, he reckoned it was time for him to go to bed. He stretched when he stood up. Dean followed him to the doorway of his bedroom. 

“I’ll be okay, Dean.” Castiel could see the worry in his face. 

“Yeah, I know you will. I’m just… I don’t know.” 

Castiel gently wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. He was close enough to hear Dean stop breathing for a moment. He hugged Dean, and Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel again like he did before, but not as abruptly. 

“I don’t know how many times I have to say thank you, but I really appreciate you,” Castiel muffled into Dean’s chest. Dean rubbed Castiel's back as he replied.

“I appreciate you too, Cas.” He squeezed Castiel gently before letting go of him. “Now get some sleep. Or try to.”

“I’ll try to.” Castiel turned to enter his room before he paused and said, “Feel free to stay if you like. The couch is very comfortable. More comfortable than your car, I would like to assume. There's blankets in the hall closet.” 

Dean smiled, with a light laugh, and nodded. Castiel went into his bedroom and shut the door. He was waiting to hear the front door to close, but instead he heard Dean settle on the couch. He smiled to himself as he changed his clothes, and turned off his light. 

He fell asleep listening to the lightness of Dean’s snoring.


	5. Banana Pancakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is primarily based around one of my favourite songs EVER which is Jack Johnson's 'Banana Pancakes'. It's my favourite rainy day song, and it makes me SO happy. If you haven't heard the song, I strongly suggest you listen to it, and cry with me. It's just so cute. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OkyrIRyrRdY
> 
> Dean sings/references the song in this chapter, as well as throughout the fic. Rain becomes a strong motif that brings them closer together. 
> 
> Thanks so much for the comments so far!! 
> 
> I actually have finished this fic--JUST finished it, like yesterday lol. I spent the past five months working on it and it's just been such an amazing experience. This is my first fic that I've written and completed, and it's all because of my beta's. If it wasn't for them, I would probably still be on the first chapter. 
> 
> Anyways, I'll shut up now and let you enjoy the chapter :)

When Castiel woke the next morning, he saw the time read 10:00 AM. He jolted up in a panic, and forgot about his injury. His ribs ached as he moved. He got up and looked out the window. The light was grey and casting soft shadows in his bedroom. There was rain falling lightly against his window pane. 

He opened his bedroom door and immediately was surprised by the scent of bacon and something sweet wafting from the kitchen. He peeked around the corner of his hallway and there, was Dean, flipping pancakes and singing a song to himself. Castiel shuffled his way into Dean’s peripherals, where Dean turned and looked at him, stifling a laugh.

“Morning gorgeous,” Dean said, flashing him a smile. “And don’t we look wonderful this morning.”

Castiel put a hand to his head and groaned. Dean laughed. 

“I have to call the school,” Castiel mumbled, slowly sitting himself on the couch. 

“Don’t worry, I already called them this morning,” Dean explained. “They were able to access your lesson plans on your drive and you have a sub for the day.” 

Castiel turned to look at him.

“What?” Dean asked, “You needed the rest. Which reminds me, I need to have a look at you again.” He took the pancakes out of the pan and turned off the burner.

Castiel didn't even bother to refuse when Dean carried a cloth and walked up to the couch and sat beside him. Dean held a hand under Castiel's chin, lifting his head up. Dean's hands where surprisingly soft, despite how rough they looked. Castiel's lip was swollen and sore, the cut stinging when Dean cleaned it up. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this,” Castiel told him. 

“Yeah, well. I want to—so deal with it,” Dean smiled. 

Castiel just sat still while Dean looked at his nose. 

“It's not broken, but it’s still a little swollen; bruised a bit. As far as your lip, it's just a minor cut. It'll heal in a couple days. Just try not to play with it. We don't want that cut opening up.”

"Thank you," Castiel said. 

"Don't worry about it. You hungry?" Dean stood up, offering his hand to Castiel. 

Castiel took it and Dean pulled him up. Castiel winced as he remembered his ribs.

“What—what is it? Are you okay?" Dean asked, concerned. 

"I'm fine, it's just my ribs. It's okay, Dean." Castiel tried to convince him but he was a very bad liar. He hissed when he moved again. 

"Okay you are definitely _not_ okay and I need to take a look.” Castiel nodded. "Alright, lift your shirt up for me."

Castiel brought his shirt up slowly and pulled it over his head, discarding it on the floor. He really wished there were better circumstances for him to be removing his shirt. Dean stepped closer as he looked down at Castiel's chest and stomach. Dean winced at Castiel's condition. 

"I'm uh—I’m gonna put some pressure on it, okay? I need to see if anything is broken. Why the hell didn't you tell me about this last night?"

"I didn't think it was going to be this bad," Castiel admitted. 

Dean brought a hand up and gently placed it on Castiel's bruises. He applied some pressure which did not feel nice; Castiel sharply inhaled. He tried to keep a straight face as Dean pushed harder. 

"It's just some bruising,” Dean said. “I don't think anything is broken but if it doesn't improve in the next couple of days I'm taking you to the hospital."

"Okay," Castiel agreed. He was sure he would be able to bring himself to the hospital but he didn't feel like arguing. 

"Alright, are you hungry now?" 

Castiel bent to grab his shirt off the floor but Dean was quicker and scooped it up. He handed it to Castiel, who took it and put it back on. 

“Thanks. I’m starving," he answered. 

 

Dean's breakfast was the best Castiel had ever eaten. Dean made banana pancakes, something that he had never tried before but was planning on having them again in the near future. He skipped his protein shake and smoothie and replaced it with bacon on top of his banana pancakes, smothered with syrup. He had to admit, he had never tasted anything as good. 

Dean was humming the song he sang while he was cooking breakfast. He only stopped humming it to take a bite, and then resumed humming. 

"What is that?" Castiel asked. 

"Hmm?"

"That song. You were singing it earlier."

"Oh. It's ‘Banana Pancakes’ by Jack Johnson," Dean mused. "It's my favourite rainy day song."

"Oh. I don't know it."

“It's a great song. I'll have to show it to you some time." Dean continued to eat. Castiel finished his plate and sat back in his chair. 

"That would be nice." 

Dean looked up and gave him a quick smile before finishing off his own plate. They sat in silence for a few moments.

"So, you uh—wanna get ready to go to the station? 

Castiel forgot about that. He didn't really want to go but knew he had to, whether he liked the idea or not. 

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice. You don’t have to work today?”

“Nope. I’m off for the next few days, which will be nice. I’ll just bring you in and do some paperwork while you give your statement.”

“Okay. I’ll get ready. If you need the shower, you can use it after me.” 

“Sounds good.” 

 

When Castiel came out of the bathroom, he poked his head into the kitchen. Dean was busy cleaning—he wasn’t lying when he told Castiel he likes things tidy. 

“The shower’s yours if you want it,” Castiel called to him. Dean turned around and nearly dropped the pan he was about to put away. He looked Castiel up and down and cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything. He just held onto the pan like it was the only thing he could do. Castiel looked down and realized: he forgot he was only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair and chest were still damp from the shower. 

“Uh—okay. Thanks, Cas,” Dean finally said. He turned away quickly and put away the dishes. Castiel could see Dean’s neck turning red from behind. He turned and walked to his bedroom, unsure of what he just witnessed. 

 

Dean didn’t take a shower, but told Castiel that he had to stop back at his place, so he was going to bring Castiel to the station and then pick him up after he was done. Castiel was curious as to what Dean had to do, but he had an idea—Dean wouldn’t stop fidgeting and trying to get comfortable as he sat in the Impala. Hiding a boner was not an easy task. Once Castiel had that thought in his mind, he couldn’t stop smirking to himself. He looked out the window to hide it from Dean. The sky was still grey and gloomy, the rain hadn’t stopped, and didn’t look like it was going to for a while. It was okay though. Castiel liked the rain. 

Dean was humming that song again. 

“How does it go?” Castiel asked. 

“What?”

“The song. How does it go?”

If Castiel thought the man was perfect just from what he was getting thus far, he swore he could have swooned by the sound of Dean’s voice as he started singing the song.

_“Well can’t you see that it’s just raining? There ain’t no need to go outside. But baby you hardly even notice, when I try to show you, this song is meant to keep you from doing what you’re supposed to. Waking up too early, maybe we could sleep in. Making banana pancakes, pretend like it’s the weekend now. We could pretend it all the time. Can’t you see that it’s just raining? There ain’t no need to go outside.”_

Castiel stared at Dean in awe. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he said. 

“What?” Dean asked, shocked. 

Castiel shook his head. “Nothing, you’re just perfect, that’s all.”

Dean blushed and smiled. “Thanks, but I’m far from perfect, trust me. 

They arrived at the station not long after and Dean dropped Castiel off and told him he’d be back to pick him up in half an hour. Castiel went through the procedures by himself, which was something he wasn’t prepared for, since he thought that Dean was going to be coming with him. 

_He’s not your boyfriend_ , Castiel reminded himself.

His statement was simple: he told the truth. He gave as detailed descriptions of the men as he could, what kind of van it was, and a partial license plate. But when it came time to talk about why he left his car to confront the men, Castiel felt foolish. He explained to the officers that he had very sentimental things in the safe that were irreplaceable. He told them that he couldn’t dare let them take anything from it without least trying to stop them. 

Then came the questions like: “Well what’s _really_ in the safe Mr. Novak?” “Is it drugs?” “Do you have any drugs on your property? Any weapons?” 

To which Castiel replied with a sigh, “There are things that belonged to my late husband, and I can’t part with them just yet. You know who my husband is—” he paused, “ _was_ —and I would appreciate some respect on the matter. There are no drugs or weapons in that safe or on my property aside from prescription medication and over-the-counter pain killers,” he stopped, thinking, “and a bat. That would be the closest thing I would have to a weapon aside from kitchenware. I am a teacher, I’m not stupid.” 

The officers apologized and continued the interview. At this point, Castiel was glad that Dean wasn’t there. 

“And why did you call Officer Winchester? Why not call 911?” 

“Mr. Winchester and I are friends and I had just returned from his place that evening when I encountered the intruders. It was my first reaction—to call him.”

“Are you and Officer Winchester close?” 

“I don’t think we’re here to talk about my relationship with _Officer_ Winchester.” Castiel was growing impatient. “Are we done here?”

“We’ll call you if we need anything else. Thank you for your time, Mr. Novak.”

Castiel was escorted out of the interview room and there was Dean, sitting there waiting for him. He had a different change of clothes on and looked more relaxed. 

“You ready to go?” Dean asked, standing up.

“Yes, please.”

“Was it that bad?” Dean laughed. He must have heard the desperation in Castiel’s voice. 

“I just want to go home.” Castiel started walking towards the exit. Dean didn’t ask any further questions about it, and followed him out.

 

They arrived back at Castiel’s house a little after 1:00 PM, the rain still coming down, but less than it was when they left. Dean went out and bought Chinese take-out for the both of them and awkwardly carried it as he helped Castiel out of the car, gently tugging him up. Castiel grunted as he tried to hide the pain. Dean walked beside him as they walked into the house, watching him as if Castiel was going to shatter and he needed to be there to catch all the pieces of his body. 

Castiel sat himself on the couch. Dean came over and placed the food on the coffee table. Castiel noticed he was also carrying a backpack. Castiel looked up at him with a curious look on his face. Dean pulled out a stack of movies. 

“It’s a rainy day!” He exclaimed and then sang, “ _There ain’t no need to go outside_.”

Castiel broke out a smile and extended his arm out for Dean to pass him the movies. Classic movies: Star Wars, Star Trek, Indiana Jones, Silence of the Lambs, and Lord of the Rings.

“You pick,” Dean said, sitting down beside him.

Castiel pondered the different choices to make. They were all very good movies. He looked outside and saw that the sun was still hiding behind the rainclouds, giving everything a misty-grey tinge. 

“I think Hannibal Lecter seems like a good choice for the weather.” Castiel held up Silence of the Lambs. 

“Obviously,” Dean joked. 

Dean stood up and grabbed the movie from Castiel’s hands. Castiel froze when Dean’s fingers lightly grazed over his own. Dean turned away quickly and put the disk in Castiel’s DVD player, turning the TV on, and grabbing the remote. He settled himself down beside Castiel again and got comfy. The main title menu came up and Castiel smiled as Anthony Hopkins’ face illuminated the greyed room. 

They ate the Chinese food while they watched Clarice Starling running through the trails.

 

Castiel barely made it half an hour into the movie before he fell asleep. It was only when he woke that he realized he was leaning into Dean, Dean’s arm resting on the top of the couch. He rubbed his eyes, looking up at Dean who gave him a soft smile. Castiel looked at the TV to see the end credits rolling up; Hannibal Lecter walking away, stalking Dr. Chilton. 

“Sorry,” Castiel mumbled. “I didn’t realize I fell asleep.”

“Yeah you were looking pretty droopy halfway through,” Dean laughed. “It’s okay. I figured you needed the rest. How’s your ribs?”

Castiel moved a bit. “Still a little sore, but definitely not as bad as this morning.”

“Good.”

“What time is it?” 

“4:51.”

“Is it still raining?”

Dean looked up. “Looks like it, yeah.”

“Wanna watch another movie? I promise I won’t fall asleep on you this time.” 

“Yeah, sure. Hey—you got any popcorn?”

 

Castiel got his popcorn pot out—the kind that has the spinning handle—and some oil. He told Dean where to find the popcorn kernels in the pantry and Dean brought them to him. He turned the burner on mid-heat and pour some oil and kernels in the pot. He ordered Dean to turn the handle while he pulled out ingredients to make them some drinks.

“What—do you know everything?” Dean asked, looking over his shoulder as he stirred the kernels. Castiel was busy pouring various liquids and alcohols into a pitcher. 

“No, I don’t,” Castiel replied. “If I did, I would likely be some sort of celestial being.”

Dean laughed. “Well, you know more than me.” 

Castiel poured them each a drink and set them on the island. Dean turned around and took a sip of his. His eyes bugged out and he took another sip.

“This is amazing. What’s it called?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t named it yet.” Castiel went to the stove and stirred the kernels that were just beginning to pop. 

Dean just stared at Castiel in awe. It only made Castiel blush a little bit. When the popcorn was done, Castiel poured it into a large bowl and melted some butter. He sprinkled salt over the popcorn and carried it with him to the living room. 

They settled on watching The Fellowship of the Ring. The popcorn was perfect, and it didn’t take them long to finish the entire pitcher of Castiel’s drink between the two of them. 

“I’ll make some more,” Castiel told him, getting up. When Castiel returned with a fresh pitcher, he poured them each another glass and sat down next to Dean; he was closer to Dean than he was before: his entire left side of his body was touching Dean’s right side. He squirmed to get comfy. Dean hesitated but then brought his arm around Castiel’s shoulder, tugging him in closer. Castiel froze.

“Sorry,” Dean started, and began to swing his arm back up. 

“Don’t.” Castiel grabbed his arm and put it back. He leaned in closer to Dean and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. He took a sip of his drink and focused on the TV—or tried to focus. 

Castiel was sure the same things were running through Dean’s head as his: _holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck, what am I doing, what is happening?_

He shivered when Dean started to run his fingers up and down his arm. He moved in closer and nuzzled his face in Dean’s neck. He could feel Dean’s pulse beating fast as Castiel breathed. By this point Castiel had forgotten all about Frodo and Sam, and was focusing more on the sound of Dean’s heartbeat and breathing.

They sat like that for a few moments; Dean continued to run his hands up Castiel’s arm, Castile moving in closer each time he did it. Castiel was so close that if he stuck his tongue out, he could lick Dean’s neck. 

Dean turned his head down and looked at Castiel, who turned his head up. He glanced at Dean’s lips, and Dean glanced at his. Castiel sucked in a breath when Dean moved in closer. Dean brought his other hand and placed it on Castiel’s cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb. If Castiel could breathe, he would—but it seems like he forgot how. Dean’s breathing was short and hitched. He licked his lips and gazed down at Castiel’s lips again. Castiel parted his lips and moved in closer. He could practically taste Dean’s breath. Dean leaned in and gently placed his open mouth on Castiel’s. Castiel let out a soft sigh as he kissed Dean back, eyes closing and allowing his hands to reach at Dean’s shirt. Dean leaned in more earnestly and moved his hand to the back of Castiel’s head, his hand carding through Castiel’s hair. Their lips parted only for a second to look into each others’ eyes, searching for an answer that would only be solved by exploring each others’ mouths again. When Castiel leaned in and opened his mouth, he felt the warm slick of Dean’s tongue enter. He hummed as Dean’s tongue teased his way around Castiel’s mouth. Castiel’s breathing became less steady as he craved for the feeling of it again, opening his mouth and pushing his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Castiel pushed in, more eager and hungry, sucking in Dean’s breath as he moved his body up and brought his legs around, straddling Dean’s body. He didn’t care that it hurt his lip when he pushed in harder; victoriously achieving a moan from the back of Dean’s throat. 

“ _Fuck_ , Cas,” Dean growled. 

It sent shivers down Castiel’s spine hear his name like that on Dean’s lips. Dean grabbed at Castiel’s back, pulling him in closer. It was as if he was trying to get a feel for Castiel’s entire body because his hands moved down his back, went over his ass, around his thighs and rubbed up Castiel’s chest, stopping just before his neck. Dean moved his lips away from Castiel’s and brought them down to his jaw, sucking and licking his way down to Castiel’s throat. 

A soft cry escaped Castiel’s mouth and he uncontrollably grinded himself down into Dean’s groin. He felt Dean’s breath hitch. Dean gently bit at Castiel’s jaw. Castiel sucked in a breath. He felt Dean wrap an arm around his back and another holding his thigh. The next thing Castiel knew was he was being carried. Dean walked out of the living room and towards the bedroom.

He brought Castiel down onto the bed and stood in front of him. He looked down at Castiel as he grabbed at the hem of Castiel’s shirt and pulled it up, discarding it on the floor. He quickly pulled off his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the same direction as Castiel’s. Castiel’s eyes went dark as he took in the image that was Dean Winchester. 

If he thought Dean’s arms were enough to lose sleep over, he won’t sleep for weeks after seeing Dean’s perfect body standing in front of him. No, not standing in front of him—because now all of the sudden Dean was hovering over him. When did Castiel get on his back? Dean ghosted a hand up Castiel’s body, making him quiver. He kissed up Castiel’s neck and he thought he was going to lose consciousness from that feeling alone. 

Dean brought his lips back to Castiel’s, gently nipping at his lip (the side that didn’t have the cut) and Castiel sighed. Dean lowered his body, minding not to put his full weight on Castiel’s ribs. Castiel could feel the hardness of Dean’s groin as Dean pushed down onto Castiel’s.

“Wait—stop.” Castiel pushed Dean up, as much as he didn’t want to. “We’ve been drinking. I don’t want this to be something we’re going to regret. I think we should hold off for a second.”

Dean froze when he realized Castiel was right.

“Yeah. Okay,” Dean agreed. “I guess that’s probably a good idea.”

Dean moved and sat next to Castiel on the bed. Castiel sat up, leaning on his elbows. 

“I can leave, if you want me to,” Dean said finally.

“Don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay.”

They sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Castiel pushed himself up and sat cross- legged beside Dean. He was turning to say something to Dean when Dean beat him to it.

“I really like you, Cas.” Dean looked him dead in the eyes. “And that’s not the alcohol talking.” He laughed. “Well it _might_ be the alcohol giving me the balls to actually say it out loud. But the truth is,” he moved himself closer to Castiel, “I haven’t been with anyone for like five years, so I really don’t know what I’m doing. But I want you to know that I care about you. A lot.”

Castiel was still for a moment before he spoke. “I care about you too, Dean. I haven’t had a connection like this with anyone for a long time, to be honest. I just don’t want to ruin it by jumping in too quickly. And especially under the influence.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Castiel placed a hand on top of Dean’s and smiled sincerely. He looked at the clock on his bedside table and it read 6:42 PM.

“You hungry?” Castiel turned. 

“Yeah, let’s eat,” Dean smiled, taking his hand.


	6. First Date Jitters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeee things are happening! 
> 
>  
> 
> This was a really nice chapter to write. I enjoyed it immensely. It's a bit longer but it's sooo worth it.

There was a strangeness in the air when Castiel woke the next morning. He wasn’t drunk enough last night to wonder what happened, but he was still feeling like he was lacking something. He would have much preferred to make out with Dean sober, but as Dean said last night—maybe the alcohol was giving them the “balls” to say and do how they really felt. 

He sent an email to the school the night before, one that forwarded to all the teachers and staff, that he would require another day off. He wasn’t ready to go back with his face bruised the way it was. The clock on his nightstand read 7:20 AM. He carefully got out of bed as it was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep with the thoughts running through his head. 

He opened his bedroom door and walked down the hallway into the kitchen, where Dean was still asleep on the couch. He softly walked around him and went to the kitchen where he started a pot of coffee. He sat at the kitchen table while he waited for his coffee to brew. 

When it was ready, he poured himself a cup, added cream and sugar, and went and sat outside with his chickens, occasionally throwing them seed. He brought outside with him, a book: Stephen King’s _Dolores Claiborne_. He hadn’t picked it up in ages and found it comforting to disappear in the happenings of the novel. When his first cup of coffee was finished, he went back inside to refill. Dean was still asleep on the couch. Castiel could see the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. He was unsure if he should wake Dean—it was like at sleep overs when you’re the only one awake and have nothing to do, so you lie awake, awkwardly waiting for your friend to get up—that’s how this was. Castiel went back outside and continued reading. 

It was well after 8:00 AM when Dean emerged from the living room. Castiel heard him open the patio door that led to the backyard. Dean covered his eyes from the morning sun, eyes squinting as he walked up to Castiel, holding a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” Dean said to him. 

“Good morning, Dean. Did you sleep well?” Castiel put his book down. Dean took a seat in the grass beside his only chair outside. (Castiel figured he was going to have to get another chair. _Wait—don’t think that, he’s not your boyfriend_ , Castiel mentally smacked himself).

“Yeah, I did.” Dean shuffled himself and leaned back, placed his coffee in the grass, and allowed his hands to hold him up from behind. “Hey—uh, I was thinking about something.”

There was a pause, so Castiel assumed Dean wanted him to say something.

“What were you thinking about?” 

“So I know things, uh—sort of happened last night.” Oh god, this was it. Castiel knew it. It was over before it even began. He knew it was all a big mistake. 

“Yes. Things did happen, if I can recall.” He tried not to sound like an idiot.

“I wanted to make it right—you know, _not_ drunk.”

Oh. 

“What are you insinuating?”

Dean looked down, bashful. “Well, I was _wondering_ , if maybe you would want to go on a date. A _real_ date. An official one.”

Castiel turned to get a better look at him. 

“You mean you actually want to go on a date with me?”

“Well we’ve practically been living together the past couple days, but yeah—I do.”

Castiel smiled, leaning back into his chair. “I thought by now you would be running with your tail tucked between your legs. I’m not that interesting, trust me.” 

“Is that a no?”

“No, it’s not. It’s a yes, I’m just really weird at phrasing it.” Castiel chucked. He was really weird at phrasing it. Because he wanted nothing more than to date Dean. So why couldn’t he say it right? He stood up out of his chair and held out his hand for Dean, who took it, and pulled himself up. 

Once he was standing, Castiel stepped in and gave Dean a kiss on the cheek. 

“Does Friday night work?” Dean asked, blushing and smiling after Castiel kissed him.

“Friday is perfect.”

—————————————

The rest of the week went by far too fast for Castiel’s liking. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go out with Dean, he was just nervous. 

Dean left after breakfast Tuesday morning and Castiel kept himself busy with cleaning and working on marking. He did laundry hung it on the line outside. He put away dishes. He thought about the feeling of Dean’s stubble against his lips. The way Dean smiled and looked at him, his eyes lighting up, and his laugh lines deepening as his cheeks flushed. Castiel wanted to make sure he could see _that_ face again. 

Then his thoughts wandered to how it felt _actually_ kissing Dean Winchester. And having Dean Winchester kiss him back. And it was _Dean_ who kissed first, so there was that. It was useless now—the second he thought about Dean, Castiel knew it was pointless to try and get anything productive done. The only thing productive that he would be able to do is get rid of the boner that was slowly making its appearance in Castiel’s dull afternoon. 

Castiel sat in the living room on the couch, slowly palming himself through his pants. Since he had no picture to go off of, (although it was still in the messages between him and Dean) Castiel used his imagination. He imagined what his night would have been like if he actually allowed Dean to continue. Would they have gone further? They _were_ on the bed, and beds usually led to other extra curricular activities…

Would Dean have removed more than just Castiel’s shirt? Castiel let his mind wander with that image. _Dean slowly undoing the tie of his sweatpants, skirting a few fingers under the band, teasing Castiel’s skin as it would ripple beneath it_. Castiel’s breathing was becoming deeper and his cock was hard beneath his jeans. He stood up and hastily walked to the bathroom, where he shut the door behind himself and locked it. (Not like he was expecting anybody, but who knows these days). He started the shower and let it warm up while he stripped off his clothing. _Dean pulling off his sweatpants, eyes on Castiel’s cock hard as it would struggle to get out of his boxers. His sweatpants passed his knees, Dean’s hands groping the backs of Castiel’s thighs, sending electricity straight to his cock._

Castiel was standing naked in the middle of the bathroom, slowly stroking himself. The steam was starting to fog up the room. Castiel stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to ease his mind for a moment before the steam reminded him of Dean’s hot breath. _Dean kneeling at the foot of the bed, hands on both of Castiel’s thighs. Dean breathing deeply, leaning in to kiss his way up the insides of Castiel’s thighs_. Castiel shuddered at the thought of Dean being remotely near his dick. He tightened his grip, thinking of Dean bringing his lips (oh god, those lips) around the tip. He teased himself, imagining Dean licking up his precome, but going no further than the tip. He let out a soft hum, stroking faster, breathing becoming erratic. 

He stopped, pacing himself. He slowed his touch to an antagonizing ghost along his shaft, imagining Dean’s hot breath as it surrounded him. He let out a whimper when he squeezed, hitting the sensitive spot below the tip. _Dean swallowing him whole, cheeks hallowing_ —that image alone could make him come on demand but he didn’t. He savoured each feeling as it built in the base of his stomach. The hot water poured down on him, warming his skin to the touch—not comparing to the heat he felt inside. 

He was getting closer by the second. He twisted his hand and hit the sweet spot, moving his hand faster, breath unsteady. A crash from outside the bathroom made him nearly slip in the shower. 

“Cassie?” a voice yelled. _Great. Gabriel._

Castiel turned off the shower and stepped out. 

“Castiel?” Gabriel called again. Clearly he didn’t hear the shower running. Castiel wrapped a towel around his waist, his cock already soft from nearly being scared to death. 

“I’m in the bathroom!” Castiel yelled, annoyed beyond belief. Partially because he was near he climax and was interrupted—no, that was the only reason why he was annoyed. 

Castiel opened the door and Gabriel was sitting on his living room couch. Castiel’s hair was still dripping wet.

“What are you doing here Gabriel?”

“And hello to you too, brother bear!” Gabriel hopped up from the couch and walked over to where Castiel was standing. Castiel glared at him. 

“Why are you here?”

“What? I can’t come and see my baby brother?" Castiel glared at him. “I came to see how you were doing.”

Castiel walked to his bedroom to clothe himself. Gabriel followed, leaning on the door frame as Castiel walked through his room and entered his walk-in closet. 

“Well I’m fine, as you can see.” Castiel opened his top dresser drawer, revealing his underwear. 

“What were you doing in the shower at half passed four anyways? That’s not like you.” Gabriel’s voice sounded distant from inside the confinements of Castiel’s closet. Castiel pulled on a pair of boxers.

“And what makes you think you know what’s like me?” Castiel rubbed the towel over his head, dripping water on his still damp chest. He grabbed a tee shirt and emerged from his closet. 

He saw Gabriel give him a shrug as he answered, “You’re talking to the guy you used to live with, remember?” Gabriel pointed to himself. Castiel rolled his eyes.

“I went out for an afternoon run,” he lied. He threw the shirt over his head and let it hang loosely on his body. It was big on him. He noticed Gabriel looking at the shirt, and he glanced down at it, looking back at Gabriel with a questioning look. 

“You’ve been getting really close with Dean, I’ve noticed,” Gabriel mentioned. “How do you feel about him?” 

Castiel sighed. He looked down again at the shirt he was wearing. Pain flickered on his face for a second. Balthazar’s shirt. An old worn out tee shirt that he used to sleep in. Had a band name on it that Castiel only knew of because of Balthazar, and most of the time when their music would play, he would get sad. But he didn’t even really realize it was Balthazar’s shirt. 

“I feel fine.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s not answering the question, Cassie.” Gabriel pushed himself from the doorframe, taking a step towards Castiel, who walked around him and out of the bedroom.

“Dean and I are friends.” Castiel walked to the living room, Gabriel followed.

“He’s been sleeping here.” Gabriel pointed at the couch, which still had the blanket and pillow where Dean left it. 

“We’re not sleeping together. Obviously.” 

“But you like him.”

Castiel sighed again. “It’s…complicated. But yes, I enjoy his company,” he admitted. “Why does it even matter to you?”

Now Gabriel was the one sighing. “You’re my little brother, and I’m just looking out for you. He’s the new guy so I looked into him—”

Castiel spun around to face Gabriel. “YOU WHAT?!” Gabriel winced. “Gabriel you looked into a _cop_?! What the hell is _wrong_ with you?! I can’t believe you would do something like this—”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Gabriel tried.

“—I can take care of myself, I don’t need you babying me every chance you get! I’m finally happy. _FINALLY_ happy and you’re here to be the bearer of bad news? I don’t want to hear it. Please, just leave.” Castiel huffed and walked his front door, holding it open. If he wasn’t so angry he would feel bad for the look on Gabriel’s face. 

Gabriel walked slowly to the door and tried to apologize without words but Castiel couldn’t even look at him. He kept his face on a pin that he didn’t notice was on the floor. Gabriel sighed again, putting on his shoes, and walked out the door. 

When Castiel shut the door, he picked up the pin and gave it a look. L.D.P. was what it said. Lawrence Police Department.

“Why is Balthazar’s pin out here?” Castiel thought aloud. He walked back to his bedroom where he placed it in the small chest on his dresser.   
He didn’t notice that Balthazar’s pin was already sitting there.

—————————————

Wednesday was a blur. He went back to work and most of his bruises were turning yellow, but still obviously bruises. His lip was almost healed entirely so he was happy about that. He knew his students were informed of what happened, so he didn’t have anything to tell them other than that he was fine; everything was _fine_. It was a struggle being at work with Gabriel trying to insert himself in all of Castiel’s non-teaching activities, to which Castiel brushed off and kept to himself. It was also strange for Castiel and Gabriel to not get along; it was hard for Castiel to know that he needed to be mad at him for a while.

 

Thursday was about the same, except for Jo approaching him at lunch in the staffroom, which only happened on a rare occasion when she wasn’t out with her girlfriend Charlie. 

“Hey,” she said as she sat down. “How’s it going Castiel? How’ve you been?”

“Uhm, hello Jo. I’ve been okay. How are you?” Castiel held a banana muffin in his hands, peeling away the wrapper. 

“I’m good!” she replied cheerfully. She wasn’t eating anything, which Castiel thought was weird.

“Did you eat already?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, I did.”

Castiel nodded along with her. “So is there something you need?”

“Ohhhh _nothing_ …” she smiled at him. Castiel raised his eyebrows, and then furrowed them in confusion. “I just heard a rumour that you’re going on a date with Dean Winchester.”

Castiel nearly dropped the muffin. He could feel his face flushing. 

“Uhm.” He looked down, trying to figure a way out of this conversation. 

“Don’t tell Dean that I told you, but Sam told me. We’re all family so we like to tease each other. It was dumb of Dean to tell Sam, really. So it’s all his fault.” She laughed to herself. She played with one of the bracelets on her wrist.

“Okay,” was all Castiel could say. 

“I just thought I’d come tease you about it.” She brushed a hand on Castiel’s knee before she stood up and smiled at Castiel, turning away. 

What was Dean planning?

 

Friday finally showed itself and Castiel couldn’t be more nervous. He must have changed his clothes fifteen times before work. He didn’t even go for his run because he felt like he was going to throw up. He decided on what he wanted to wear for the date, and packed it in a bag so that he wouldn’t get it wrinkled. (He didn’t want to wear it to school because it would be his luck to get it dirty with no replacement). 

When Castiel arrived at the school, he couldn’t concentrate on anything. He drove straight to the school, not bothering to take a walk—weird for him to park, considering he accidentally parked in the student lot, which had him quickly moving his car around to the staff lot. All of this panic must have shown on his face because Jo was on him the instant he walked into the staffroom. 

“Morning Castiel!” she piped up, holding a cup of coffee. He walked around her and put his things in his locker. When he turned around she was sitting at the table with her hands wrapped around her cup. Castiel joined her, resting his elbows on the table.

He sighed. “Good morning, Jo.”

She looked at him earnestly and said, “You’re not looking all that well Cas, is everything okay?”

Castiel rubbed the heel of his palms on his eyes as the stress of the day started to loom over him.

“I’m terrified,” he commented, bringing his hands down. 

“ _Why_? You’re going on a date with _Dean Winchester_ , not running into battle! The man has been pining over you for the last month, he comes at your beck and call—okay don’t be gross—”

Castiel started laughing. 

“He cares about you a lot, Cas. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“What if I screw it all up?”

She sighed. 

“You won’t,” she assured him. She placed a hand on top of his and smiled gently. Castiel breathed deeply and smiled back. 

He could do this. 

 

When lunch time rolled around, Castiel opened his phone and saw a text from Dean. His heart stopped. _He’s texted you before you lunatic, just open it._

 **Dean Winchester** : Hope you’re having a good day so far. Come by my place when you’re done work. 4:00 is fine. Sound good?   
(11:58 AM)

 **Castiel** : Sounds good, Dean. I will see you then.   
(12:01 PM)

Castiel put his phone in his locker instead of keeping it on him. He had work to focus on. 

Not like that did anything to keep him focused. 

 

The final bell rang and Castiel dismissed his last class. 

“Have a good weekend everyone, and be safe out there. Make sure to lock your doors,” he told his students. 

His classroom was empty. He walked around picking up things off the floor that likely belonged in the garbage. When he was sure that he classroom would require no janitorial staff to come in, he went to the staffroom and grabbed his bag. He changed in the staff bathroom in to what he picked out that morning: his nicest pair of jeans, a simple black belt, and a light blue button down shirt. He looked in the mirror and decided that he hated it. 

He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, showing some skin, and rolled up his sleeves. There. He grabbed the rest of his things and made his way out of the building. Outside of the school was Gabriel, leaning on his car. Castiel kept his face straight, but he didn’t want to have to deal with whatever Gabriel was about to say. 

“Please move, Gabriel. I have to go,” Castiel said as he walked up to his car. Gabriel was leaning on the driver side door. Castiel took his keys out of his pocket. “Move, please.”

“Cassie, I know you’re going out with him tonight—”

“Not this shit again,” Castiel rolled his eyes. “Gabriel, _please_ move. I was supposed to be at Dean’s half an hour ago.”

Gabriel sighed and moved forward. If he hadn’t, Castiel would have just walked, but he didn’t want to leave his car in the parking lot.

Castiel opened his car door and slammed it shut, starting the engine and driving off before he could hear what Gabriel wanted to tell him. He didn’t want it to ruin the night, whatever it may be. 

 

Castiel arrived at Dean’s shortly after he drove around the block five times, deciding when would be the best time to go; half an hour ago would have been best. He walked up the stairs to get to Dean’s apartment. He glanced at his watch. It was just after 4:40 PM. 

He knocked on the door and it opened a few moments later to a smiling ( _fuck those lips_ ) Dean. He was wearing a v-neck shirt that only made Castiel want to rip it off of him. He was also wearing khaki shorts that complimented his tanned, muscular legs. 

“Eyes up here, gorgeous,” Dean said, smiling more when Castiel looked up at his bright green eyes. “Come here.”

Castiel blushed as Dean pulled him in for a quick kiss. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Castiel said when they parted. Dean took his hand and guided him through the door. Dean’s apartment was spotless. Dog-less too, which must mean Sam was home, and not at Dean’s. 

“Don’t sweat it, I had some time to finish cleaning up the place a bit.” Dean’s hand still held onto Castiel’s when they sat on the couch. Castiel nodded and looked around. The place really was pristine. 

“So what do you have planned for us this evening?” Castiel questioned. Dean smiled at him.

“It’s a surprise.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Of course it is.”

“Don't worry, I think you’ll like it.” Dean started rubbing his thumb along the outside of Castiel’s hand and _fuck_ that felt good. Castiel squeezed back in response. Castiel moved himself so that his head was leaning on Dean’s shoulder.

“I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t nervous for tonight, but I feel much better now that I’m here,” Castiel remarked.

“That makes two of us,” Dean chuckled. He rested his head on top of Castiel’s and sighed. They sat together, holding hands for a few moments before Dean told Castiel that it was time to go. 

 

Dean had a few things to carry out to his car, so Castiel helped. Dean ordered him not to peak in anything while he wasn’t looking. Castiel carried out a cooler and placed it in the trunk of the Impala. There was another tub sitting in the trunk already, but Castiel resisted the temptation to open it. Dean brought out a few bags and a canister of something while Castiel got in the Impala. 

Dean shoved the last of it into the trunk and closed it. Castiel sat waiting while Dean got inside and started the engine. He wasn’t going to lie when he thought about how much he liked hearing the sound of the Impala. Dean fiddled with the stereo, shuffling through cassette tapes, deciding on one and shoving in the slot. He pulled out of his parking space and drove down the alleyway, turning right. 

“Baby only plays old tunes,” Dean told him, as an AC/DC song started playing. “One time Sammy tried to hook up his iPod and it nearly destroyed her.” He petted the dash of the car. 

“I don’t know a whole lot about music. My hu—” Castiel cleared his throat. “—a good friend of mine was where I got any sort of musical knowledge from.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of tunes you like?” Dean looked at him. 

“Anything good.” 

That got a laugh out of Dean. Dean made a turn that led to out of Garrison Falls.

“Well that’s good, because all I got is good music. Some of it’s even better than good.” Dean looked back at him and smiled.

“So where are we going?” Castiel asked, hoping to avert the conversation. 

“Just a drive to a place I know.”

“Ah, yes. _That_ place.” 

Dean laughed. “Yes. _That_ place. It’s a bit of a drive. I hope you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind, Dean.” He didn’t mind it when Dean grabbed his hand either. He smiled and watched as nature passed by them.

 

It was about an hour before Dean turned off the road onto an overgrown trail. He pulled the car over and parked it. The grass was incredibly green, the trees swayed as the light breeze kissed their leaves; the air was pure and warm, even at this time in the day. 

“It’s a little bit of a walk down the trail, not far,” Dean told him. He walked around the Impala and opened the trunk. 

There was just enough hands between the two of them to carry the things that Dean brought. Luckily the trail wasn’t rough or difficult to walk through because Castiel feared he probably would have fallen if it was. Castiel carried the cooler that he put in the trunk, along with a bag. Dean had the tub container and another bag; the canister on top of the tub, rolling when Dean leaned too far forward. 

It was about a ten minute walk before Castiel could see the trees starting to clear. Dean led the way down to where the trail turned to heavy sand. Castiel could see the river at this point and it was beautiful, moving at a soothing pace. Dean walked to a large birch tree that stood lonesome amongst the grass and sand, and set his things down; Castiel followed suit and brought his things next to Dean’s. 

Dean opened the cooler and pulled out a water bottle. He grabbed one for Castiel, who took it graciously. It occurred to Castiel that Dean brought him here for a picnic. The other tub that Dean was carrying had food in it, and the cooler carried some fruit that sat on top of the water Dean packed. One bag held a blanket while the other held towels. Dean was busy laying out the blanket while Castiel emptied the other bag.

“I’m not going in the water if that’s what you’re planning,” Castiel said when he pulled the towels out. Dean laughed.

“They’re for in case we go in the water.”

“I didn’t pack anything for this, Dean, you should have told me. I’m a little overdressed.” 

Dean chuckled. “If I told you anything about the date, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Don’t worry, I brought a spare pair of swim trunks that should fit you—if you’re not weirded out by that sort of thing,” he paused, and then added, “And if you wore anything different for tonight, I don’t think I could have brought you on this date.” He winked at Castiel. Oh how he missed that wink. “You look amazing, Cas. Almost too good.” 

Dean finished with the blanket and walked over to Castiel, stealing a quick kiss before spinning him around. Castiel sucked in a breath from the view he was looking at. He couldn’t believe he didn’t notice it before: a waterfall, not too far off in the distance, but far enough (Castiel supposed) why he didn’t really notice it at first. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist and placed his head on one of Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel leaned into the touch. 

“It’s beautiful,” he finally said. Birds flew up from the trees and sang them soft hymns while the wind pushed them up higher. 

“Yeah, Sammy showed me this place once, before I moved here. Brought Sadie for a swim and knew it would be the perfect place for a date.” He turned Castiel back around so that Castiel was inches from Dean’s face. “I just didn’t find the right person to bring here until now.” Dean brushed a finger along Castiel’s cheek.

Castiel had no words so he just kissed Dean instead. Dean kissed him back softly, cradling Castiel’s face in his hand. When they parted, Castiel turned to look at the waterfall again. Dean took his hand and brought him over to the blanket. Castiel sat in between Dean’s legs, leaning back against him while Dean leaned against the tree. They sat in the peaceful silence and listened to the trees blow in the wind, Dean rubbing his hand along Castiel’s arm.

Castiel lost track of how long they sat like that. It was when his stomach started to rumble that he realized how hungry he was. They chuckled and Dean suggested they eat some of the food. Dean sat up and Castiel leaned forward. Dean reached around him, one hand wrapping around Castiel’s waist, and the other pulled the tub closer to them. Inside was a bunch of snacks: almonds, pistachios, trail mix, crackers, sandwiches, everything. There were grapes and strawberries in the cooler.

Castiel and Dean picked their way through a few things before Dean stopped and grabbed the canister. He hesitated when he was about to open it. 

“What is it, Dean?” Castiel asked, turning to get a better look at his face. 

“Don’t laugh, but I didn’t want to bring the whole bottle in case it broke, so I chilled the canister and put wine in it. I didn’t bring any glasses because— _glass_ —and I thought we could just share from the canister lid.”

“You really think I would consider something like this _laughable_?” Castiel looked at him softly, and held a hand over Dean’s. “This entire date has been nothing but perfect. Just because you didn’t bring wine glasses, doesn’t mean this date is a failure,” he paused, “but just don’t forget next time or else we can’t be friends.” 

Dean shook his head and laughed. “Alright, alright. Now, would you like some wine?” 

“Yes.”

—————————————

They finished the entire canister between the two of them and it dawned on Castiel that they would have to drive back to Garrison Falls. It was 7:14 PM, so if they only drank water, they should be okay to drive in a few hours. 

The wind was warm and the sun was still just high enough to give the river a soft glow. It was a beautiful day that carried over into the evening and Castiel couldn’t feel more content. A little warm from the wine, and slightly buzzed, but he knew in that moment that he’s never felt happier (Correction—he’s never felt this happy in a _long_ time—( _sorry Balthazar_ )). 

Dean stood up and grabbed something that Castiel didn’t see and walked around the tree. Curious, Castiel craned his neck to see what Dean was doing, and was rewarded with the image of Dean’s bare ass, as Dean was changing into swim trunks. There was a sharp tan line that stopped at Dean’s hips, and then continued from his mid-thighs down. Castiel had to admit that it was probably the nicest ass he’d ever seen (and no correction there). Dean’s ass was something you would only see in works of art like Michelangelo’s sculpture of David. Marble and firm, the muscles perfected by the hands of gods, or by Dean’s strict workout—who knows. Castiel looked away before Dean turned around. When Dean stepped back onto the blanket, he leaned down and handed Castiel the spare he mentioned before. Castiel looked up at him. Dean was shirtless, which obviously happened when Castiel wasn’t looking at him, and Castiel lost his train of thought.

Dean cleared his throat and smiled at him. 

“Uhm, I'm not going swimming, Dean.”

“Just put them on will you? They’re incase you get wet. Or if you decide to go in. It’s no biggie if we don’t.”

Castiel sighed. “ _Fine_. But don’t get any ideas once I get them on.” He smirked at Dean, who only winked at him. This was going to be interesting. 

Castiel walked to where Dean was and hastily undid his jeans. He pulled them off along with his boxers and put on the trunks. They were a little big on him, but the drawstring helped. He removed his shirt and folded it along with his jeans. When he returned to Dean, Dean was sitting on the blanket looking at his phone. 

“Anything interesting happen while we’ve been away?” Castiel asked him.

“Nothing, really. Just my brother being annoying.” Dean smiled and glanced at his phone quickly before shutting it off and putting it with his things. He grabbed the towels. “Shall we?”

Castiel held out a hand for Dean and helped pull him up, earning a kiss when Dean was at his level. 

“I’ll follow where you lead,” Castiel said.

 

They walked for a while, stepping through the sand, getting it in their shoes, until the sand turned into rocks, and the rocks turned into bigger stones; the river was still as beautiful, the sky turned pink and orange, and the air was still warm. They were close to the falls and Castiel could feel the humidity and moisture in the air. Hell, he could _taste_ it. 

Up ahead was a large boulder that stretched into the river. He held Dean’s hand as Dean guided them towards it. There were a few rocks that helped them climb up the boulder. Once they were on top, they had the best view of the waterfall. The sunlight angled perfectly to create a rainbow through the water as it fell into the river.

Dean brought with them a bag for the towels, a couple of water bottles, and their shirts. In case they get wet, they’ll have something dry to keep them warm on the walk back—aside from the towels. They sat on the rock and held hands, breathing in the air that felt different by the waterfall. Castiel couldn’t remember a time where he felt so at peace. 

Routine has been a part of Castiel’s life for so long, and in that life he’s known that keeping busy, keeps you out of trouble. But if trouble hadn’t found _him_ that one night, he may have never met Dean. Or maybe in other circumstances—like the school assembly—he may have seen him, but never quite _known_ him. He smiled at the thought of coincidence and happenstance. 

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Dean started, “what are you thinking about?” 

Castiel looked at Dean. “I’m having a really nice time.”

“Good. Me too.” Dean rubbed his hand along Castiel's back. 

Dean stood up abruptly, gaining a frown from Castiel. He chuckled at Castiel and took his shoes off. 

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked.

“What does it look like? I’m going in the water.” Dean finished taking his shoes off and placed them beside Castiel. “You can join me if you like.” He winked again. 

“I’ll just wait here,” Castiel said, nervously. He did take off his shoes though, his feet were getting uncomfortable. 

“Suit yourself,” Dean smiled and took a running jump, where he plummeted into the water, feet first. The boulder extended far enough into the river that he wouldn’t hit the bottom of the river, and the water wasn’t moving fast enough to take him downstream. It was perfect. Dean let out a howl when he jumped up from under the water. 

“Cold, I presume?” Castiel called, looking down at him.

“It’s perfect, Cas! You gotta try!” 

“I think I prefer being warm and dry, thanks!”

Dean was making his way back to the rocks and climbed back up to Castiel, dripping wet. 

“You sure? I think you need a hug.” Dean approached him and Castiel stood up, arms out defending himself. Castiel circled the flat surface of the boulder while Dean continued to tease him. 

“I think you need a hug, Cas. I really do.”

Castiel laughed and said, “No, I really don’t, but thanks for the offer.”

“Come on, Cas. Baby please, I just want a hug.”

Castiel stopped. Hearing Dean say baby sounded _way_ too good to pass up. 

“Say that again,” he demanded, taking a step closer to Dean, eyes hooded under his lashes. He saw Dean bite his lip. 

Dean waited until Castiel was close enough to feel Dean’s breath on his cheek. 

“Cas, baby. I just want a hug,” he whispered. “Baby, please.” 

Castiel shivered when Dean placed his hands on the side of his waist, cold to the touch, but warmed quickly. Dean leaned down and placed his lips to Castiel’s neck, licking his way up to Castiel’s jaw where he sucked hard, gaining a moan from Castiel’s throat. Dean’s hands moved up Castiel’s chest to cradle his face as he brought his mouth to Castiel’s, hot breath covering him. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and pulled him in. When their lips parted, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders and hugged him. 

“Don’t hate me,” was all Castiel heard before they tipped over the edge of the boulder.

Castiel let out a yell as they began to fall, the water cold and shocking as it enveloped their bodies. In the event of their falling, they became separated when they landed in the water. Dean swam over to him and was greeted with a splash to the face. Dean splashed Castiel back and they laughed. 

“How was that?” Dean asked.

“It wasn’t awful,” Castiel admitted, even though it was still freezing.

“I told you.” Dean laughed. He treaded water beside Castiel who wanted nothing more than to get out of the water, but he couldn’t help but look at the beauty that was Dean Winchester. How did he get this lucky? “What are you looking at?”

“You. You’re very beautiful,” he stated, moving his arms in sync with Dean’s. 

Dean got himself closer to Castiel.

“Yeah? Well you’re not so bad yourself.” He put a hand on Castiel’s waist and pulled him in for a kiss. 

“C-can we get out of the water now? Not that I don’t want to kiss you, but I’m freezing.” It was true, Castiel’s teeth were starting to chatter. Dean nodded.

They swam to the rocks and climbed back up where the towels were. They dried off quickly and put on their shirts and shoes. The walk back was still as beautiful as the walk there, the sun setting over the trees and turning the sky a light purple hue with touches of pink. When they returned back to their spot, Castiel grabbed his pants and put them back on, standing behind the tree as before. 

After Dean changed back into his shorts, they packed up the picnic. The time was nearing 9:00 PM and Castiel felt good enough to drive if Dean didn’t, although he wasn’t sure if Dean would let him go near the steering wheel. He wasn’t going to worry about it though. By the time everything was packed up and in the Impala, it was almost 9:30 PM. 

Dean closed the trunk and turned to Castiel.

“You’re okay to drive?” Castiel asked him.

“Oh, totally. I’m not a lightweight,” he teased. Even though the sky was getting darker, he knew Dean was laughing at his blush. 

“Right,” Castiel remembered.

“C’mere.” 

Dean pulled Castiel into a hug. It was strong and soft at the same time. He ran a hand through Castiel’s hair.

“Thank you for coming out with me tonight.” Dean sighed.

Castiel turned his head so that it rested on Dean’s shoulder. “Thank you for the best first date.”

“Say that again?”

Castiel looked up at him, licking his lips.

“It truly was the best first date.” 

Dean smiled at him, holding his chin up as he kissed him. Castiel leaned into the kiss as the world around him melted into nothing but Dean Winchester.


	7. Going Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut smut smut smut smut

Dean shut off the engine of the Impala when they pulled into Dean’s driveway, Castiel’s car sat waiting for him, taunting him like he should get out of the car immediately, but he didn’t want to leave. 

“I had a great time,” he told Dean, looking at him.

“I did too.” Dean smiled and placed a hand on Castiel’s knee. Oh how he wanted it so badly elsewhere—and by elsewhere, he meant _everywhere_.

Castiel fought to jump on top of Dean right then. 

“Would you want to do something like that again some time?” Dean asked.

“You mean another date? Another _official_ one?” Castiel smiled.

“Yeah, another _official_ date.” Dean chuckled as his hand started rubbing along Castiel’s knee. Castiel tried very hard not to shiver. 

“I think it could be my turn to figure s-something out, don’t you think? What’s…your—” Dean slid himself closer to Castiel and he forgot what he was going to say. Dean’s hand moved surprisingly fast up Castiel’s thigh and grabbed on to his hips, pulling him closer to Dean.

Dean pressed his lips gently to Castiel’s and Castiel couldn’t think of anything else but the taste of Dean’s lips against his and the warmth they brought when he opened his mouth to Dean’s. 

“Come inside,” Dean said when they parted. “I can assure you this will be way more comfortable in there than it is in here—no offence Baby.”

Castiel pulled Dean in and gave him a soft, warm kiss. When they parted again, Castiel answered, “I would love to, but I should probably go. It’s getting late.” 

Dean nodded and pulled himself away.

“Yeah, you’re right. Another time then,” he said softly, rubbing Castiel’s hand. Castiel gave him a soft smile and placed his other hand on the handle. 

“And it’s ‘you and I’,” Castiel corrected, looking back as he stepped out of the Impala. 

“What?” Castiel could hear the smile in Dean’s voice as he turned to answer him. Dean followed him to his car. 

“The proper grammar is ‘you and I’, not ‘you and me’. When you said you didn’t care what I came up with, as long as it was with you and me, the proper way to say it is—”

“Shut up you idiot,” Dean laughed and stepped in to give Castiel a playful push. 

Castiel giggled. “Yes, well. I had a great time tonight. Would next Friday work for another date? I’ll think of something for what we could do.”

“Yeah, that works great, Cas.” Dean leaned in and kissed him softly. 

“Alright. I’ll text you the details when I figure them out. In the meantime, I hope you have a good rest of your weekend.”

Dean smiled and leaned in.

“Goodnight, Cas,” Dean whispered. He pressed at Castiel’s lips once more before stepping back, and turning away. 

Castiel swallowed. “Goodnight Dean.” 

Castiel climbed into his car and drove home. 

—————————————

The next morning Castiel woke refreshed and ready for the day. He took a short run after his pre-workout smoothie and felt good that he was getting back into his routine. But it wasn’t really _his_ routine—it was Balthazar’s. Castiel only participated because he knew it was good for him. But when Balthazar died, it took a lot of strength to keep going. It was hard, grant it, but the routine kept him balanced and focused. It wasn’t until Dean that he realized how much he needed a break from it. And how quickly nearly three years can pass when one is wrapped up in it. 

He didn’t have much planned for the weekend, just mostly catching up on his marking. When he got back from his run, he fed his chickens, showered, (finally got the chance to finish what he started yesterday), and made his protein shake. He glanced at his phone before opening his folder with his students’ work. 

**Gabriel **: I hope the date was good.  
**** Can I come over? I miss my baby bro.  
(8:03 AM) 

Castiel sighed. He supposed it was about time they made up. 

**Castiel** : I guess so. I have marking to do so I can’t procrastinate all day from it. Come by after noon.  
**(8:05 AM)**

Castiel put his phone down and started marking. One of his classes had a unit test and essays to write, so he knew he would be marking all weekend. He was about a quarter way through the exams when his phone lit up. 

**Dean Winchester** : Okay I can’t wait to see you again. I have the afternoon off. Wanna to hang out? I can come by your place if you want. I just want to see you again. **(9:36 AM)**

Of course Castiel did. Castiel wanted to drop everything and go see him. But he thought about Gabriel. 

**Castiel** : I would love to, but I have plans to visit with Gabriel. He’s supposed to be coming over sometime after noon, though I’m not sure when. Maybe this evening? Would that work? I would really like to see you again as well. To see you right now would be much more preferable, but I’m catching up on all of my marking at the moment. **(9:37 AM)**

**Dean Winchester** : Movie night? **(9:37 AM)**

**Castiel** : Sounds perfect. See you tonight. **(9:38 AM)**

**Dean Winchester** : See you later :)  
**(9:39 AM)**

Castiel had a hard time focusing on his marking but managed to finish the exams. 

Gabriel showed up at around 1:20 PM and Castiel had just finished eating lunch: vegetarian quiche and homemade buns (from the freezer—Castiel had no time to bake fresh bread). Castiel was in the middle of washing his few dishes up when his front door opened and in walked Gabriel. 

"Brother!” he called, stepping into the kitchen. 

“Hello Gabriel.” Castiel dried his hands and walked over to Gabriel, who had his arms stretched out for a hug. Castiel obliged and hugged his brother, unaware how much he actually missed him. 

“So, are you gonna tell me about this date of yours?” Gabriel slapped him on the shoulder and Castiel had to discreetly try to regain some balance. 

Castiel shot him a look of disbelief. 

“What?” Gabriel questioned. 

“The last time we spoke, you were trying to talk me _out_ of the date. Now you want to talk _about_ it?” Castiel walked to his dining table and sat down, resting his elbows on the edge. 

Gabriel sighed and sat down across from Castiel. 

“I know,” he started, “but I’m here to tell you that whatever it was I was thinking, it doesn’t matter. I saw how happy you’ve been since you met Dean and I want you to know that I support you.” 

Castiel looked up at his brother who smiled sincerely at him, and reached out and placed his hand atop Castiel’s. A wave of relief washed over Gabriel’s face when Castiel smiled. 

“Thank you,” Castiel said. “Want something to drink?” 

————————————— 

Gabriel stayed longer than Castiel was initially intending to allow him, but he figured it was about time they actually talked to each other and not have him dodge his own brother. It was when there was a knock on the door when Castiel realized what time it was. 

Castiel walked over to the door, hesitating when he could see the familiar figure standing behind it. He lost track of time. Gabriel was still here and Castiel wasn’t interested in entertaining him and Dean together—considering Gabriel had his issues with Dean but wouldn't tell Castiel what they were. It bothered him, but he tried not to let it show. 

Castiel opened the door to a smiling green-eyed Dean Winchester. 

“Hey baby," Dean quirked. 

"Hello Dean,” he said, putting a smile on his already anxious face. But who was he kidding, really—his face always looked like that. Dean was also holding a box of pizza and a bag of what looked like beer. Dean smiled at him and took a step inside, eyes stopping at Gabriel, who was sitting on the couch. 

“Deano!” Gabriel yelled, holding up his cup of tea in greetings. 

Dean shot a glance at Castiel that looked like ‘ _I thought we would have the evening to ourselves, **honey ******_,’ but was quickly replaced with a smile and a nod towards Gabriel.

“How you doin’ Gabe?” Dean walked around Castiel and placed the food and beer on the island. He grabbed a beer and went to sit on the opposite end of the couch. Castiel watched as Dean brought the bottle to his lips (again, _those fucking lips_ ) and took a swig. Castiel looked away before his thoughts wandered to the bottle being something else against Dean’s lips—who was he kidding, it was too late, the thought was already there. 

Castiel stood awkwardly by the door, not sure whether to get plates for pizza or join them in the living room. Dean turned and looked at him over his shoulder, nodding his head in his direction ( _okay, go to the living room then_ ), and Castiel obliged. 

Dean patted the cushion next to him that was between him and Gabriel. Castiel grabbed a beer for himself on his way into the living room and sat next to Dean, posture softening when Dean wrapped an harm around his shoulders. Castiel leaned into the touch. 

“How was your day?” Dean asked him, nudging at Castiel. 

“It was…” Castiel paused, making a face, “Not as productive as I wish it were, but I suppose have tomorrow to finish up assignments. How was yours?” He glanced up at Dean. 

“It was good. Got some laundry done, met up with Sam for lunch, washed Baby up nice and clean, and now I’m here. Pretty solid day if you ask me. What about you Gabe? How was your day?” 

Gabriel was preoccupied with his tea bag before he looked up and answered. 

“Oh, me? It was _fine_ , I’m fine—thanks for asking. I actually spent most of my day here, avoiding my own responsibilities and in turn, caused Cassie to avoid his as well. But now that you’re here, I think my services are no longer required.” 

Gabriel stood and placed his empty cup on the coffee table. Castiel inched himself away from Dean, looking over the back of the couch as Gabriel walked around and put on his coat. 

“Thanks for coming over today Gabriel,” Castiel said. “It was nice hanging out with you.” 

Gabriel put on his shoes and looked up. “Yeah, it was good Cassie. I’ll see you Monday.” He paused and looked at Dean. “Have a good one, Dean.” 

Dean nodded and lifted his drink up to Gabriel as Gabriel opened the door. They were left with the sound of Gabriel starting his car. 

“So uh, that was interesting,” Dean broke the silence and laughed. 

Castiel leaned back and sighed. “Yes, well. My brother can be interesting, I suppose.” He turned to look at Dean who leaned in and gently placed a kiss on Castiel’s forehead. Castiel hummed at his touch and smiled. 

“You want some pizza?” Dean asked. 

“The pizza is too far away at the moment and I’m comfortable.” Dean chuckled and wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist, pulling him in closer, resting his head on top of Castiel’s. 

“You’re right. It is.” 

————————————— 

Castiel opened his eyes, glancing at the clock on the satellite receiver. 8:09 PM. He shifted his weight and realized that Dean was still behind him. More like _underneath_ him by this point—they were both sprawled on the couch. Castiel sat up and felt Dean stir beneath him. Dean shimmied himself up, hands never leaving Castiel’s waist. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said. 

“What for?” Dean stretched his arms and twisted his neck, likely sore from laying on the couch the way they were. 

“I fell asleep on you.” 

“Well I fell asleep too, so don’t even worry about it. You hungry?” Dean stood up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the pizza box and a couple plates from the cupboard. It made Castiel tingle inside to see Dean becoming so accustom to his space. 

“Yeah, I’m quite hungry actually,” Castiel admitted. Castiel got up and brought himself to the kitchen, sitting at the island while he watched Dean bustle around, putting pizza slices on plates and setting them in the microwave. Dean turned and rested his elbows on the island, facing Castiel. 

“So I brought a couple movies, if you’re still interested in having a movie night,” Dean reminded him. 

“Yes, I would still enjoy watching a movie with you. I just hope I don’t fall asleep,” Castiel replied, glancing at the time again. 

“Don’t worry about it dude.” Dean started to chuckle. “You worry too much about things that shouldn’t matter. If you’re tired, you’ll sleep. If you’re not tired, then well—you know.” 

Castiel cocked his head at Dean’s smirk. The microwave beeped and Dean turned around to grab the pizza. He walked around the island and sat next to Castiel with their pizza in front. 

  


After their pizza was consumed, they made their way back to the living room where Dean pulled out Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, and The Dark Knight Rises.

“I know I said I brought a couple movies, but—" 

“I’m assuming we’re watching Batman tonight?” Castiel quirked. 

“If that’s okay.” It wasn’t a question but Castiel knew Dean meant it as one. 

“Of course, I love Batman. Although I should note that I have not seen these variations of the films.” Castiel laughed when Dean’s mouth dropped. “In my defence, Gabriel is a stickler for old films so he made me watch them with him—although, I hardly remember them. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them and I just never got around to watching the remakes.” 

Dean’s mouth shut and he raised his eyebrows at Castiel. “You’re off the hook this time, Mister.” 

Castiel chuckled and settled himself into the couch while Dean got the first movie ready. 

“We’re not watching _all_ of the movies tonight are we?” 

“God, if we get through the first one without you passing out, we might make it through the second movie before I do.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes and made room for Dean as he sat down with the remote. Dean smiled and wrapped an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel leaned into Dean and sighed when Dean held him a little tighter. 

They were nearly finished the first movie when Castiel could hear the faint sound of Dean snoring, which only made Castiel smile and shake his head. It was shortly after 10:00 PM, there was nothing else for Castiel to do. As Batman Begins finished, Castiel stood up to remove the disk, which in turn, woke Dean up. Castiel made a face at Dean who rubbed his eyes and looked at him. 

“Sorry,” Castiel said. 

“You apologize a lot, you know that?” Dean replied, still in the half-laying position Castiel left him in. 

“Yes well—I’m sorry for that as well, I guess. Did you want to watch the next movie? I can get it all set up if you like.” 

“What time is it?” 

“It’s 10:13.” 

Dean rested his arms behind his head and sighed. 

“I should probably go, hey?” 

Castiel looked at him earnestly from the TV stand. It wasn’t that late. “You don’t have to.” 

“So then what are you suggesting?” Dean quirked his lips up and Castiel could swear Dean’s eyes grew darker. Eyes like that made Castiel's stomach flip and his dick twitch. 

“Well,” he started, not entirely sure where his feet were taking him. He placed the DVD case on the coffee table and walked around to the couch, “we _could_ watch the second movie.” 

Castiel placed a knee on the edge of the cushion, never leaving Dean’s eyes. Dean positioned himself higher, balancing himself on his elbows. 

"Yeah?" Dean breathed. Dean licked his lips, glancing at Castiel's. "Or?” Dean’s voice was barely audible. 

Castiel brought his leg over and lowered himself on top of Dean’s body, straddling his hips. Dean lifted his knees up, comfortably seating Castiel's ass against his crotch. Castiel leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of Dean’s head, as Dean settled himself against the armrest of the couch. 

“Or we could do this,” Castiel answered, mouthing over Dean's neck. Dean shuddered beneath him and craned his neck back, giving Castiel better access to his throat. It's been a long time since Castiel got to take control like this, and he had to admit, he missed it incessantly. 

Dean stopped breathing altogether when Castiel dug his teeth in and sucked hard at the base of Dean's jawline. His breath hitched when Castiel licked over the red sore spot he gave him and hummed his approval. 

"Yeah let's do this instead, please," Dean finally said. 

Castiel brought his lips to Deans and was graciously rewarded with the slick movement of Dean's tongue against his. Dean sucked in a long breath through his nose as he grabbed at Castiel's back and pulled himself up, lips never leaving Castiel's. He pushed Castiel on his back and kissed him hard. Dean kissed down Castiel’s neck and up to his ear where he sucked on his earlobe. Castiel’s eyes fluttered closed in pure bliss. Castiel shivered when Dean's hands skirted across his waist, underneath his shirt. Dean pressed his hips down and Castiel could feel how hard he was against his own achingly hard cock. 

They finally parted, eyes dark, lips red and swollen, breaths fast and deep. Dean had his hands rested on either side of Castiel's shoulders, looking down at him desperately. He brought his head back down and rested their foreheads together, Castiel closed his eyes. He focused on Dean's breathing that was slowly becoming more even. 

"I don't know if I'm ready," Castiel finally said. He opened his eyes to see Dean's face soften. Dean brought a hand and rubbed Castiel's cheek and kissed him gently. Guilt washed over Castiel when he thought about why he wasn't ready yet. What would Balthazar want for him? Deans voice distracted him away from his thoughts. 

"It's okay, Cas. You don't have to be ready yet. We don't have to do anything. We'll do what you're comfortable with. It's okay." He brushed his thumb across Castiel's cheek again. 

Castiel sighed. "I want to be ready. I want you, Dean." He wanted Dean more than he could possibly imagine. Half of him thought that he's never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Dean in that moment. "Can we—can we just take it slow?" 

"Of course, Cas. Whatever you want." Dean pulled himself away. Castiel's lips quirked up. 

"I said take it slow, not stop," he whispered. 

Dean sucked in a breath. 

“Are—are you sure?" he asked. 

Castiel sat up so that he was eye to eye with Dean. Dean looked down at Castiel's lips and then back up, green eyes dancing. Castiel nodded. His lips were electrified when Dean kissed him again, only this time he was more eager. Dean grabbed at Castiel's shirt and pulled it up over his head, laughing when Castiel's hair stood up. 

"Shut up," Castiel laughed, kissing Dean again. He pushed Dean back and put his hands underneath Dean's shirt. Dean flinched and Castiel hesitated. 

“Jesus, you're hands are cold!" 

Castiel grinned and placed his hands back on Dean's stomach, laughing when Dean cursed. He teased Dean underneath his shirt and gently caressed up his chest, making Dean quiver. He pulled Dean's shirt up, getting it half stuck at his elbows. Dean laughed and helped Castiel. When Dean was shirtless, Castiel stared. 

"What? You've seen me shirtless before, Cas." Dean glanced down at himself. 

"Yes, but that was under the influence and it's been a while," Castiel replied, eyes running up and down Dean’s torso. 

“Do you—shit, never mind.” 

“What?” 

Dean sighed. “Do you—want to see more?” 

Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. He gave Dean another once over and licked his lips. Dean continued. 

“You can say no, it’s okay. I know you want to take things slow, and we don’t have to do anything _serious_ , if you know what I mean. I—" 

“Yes,” Castiel interrupted. “I would.” 

Dean blinked. “You would?” 

“Yes. Now we should probably go somewhere that will be more comfortable before I change my mind.” (Before guilt finds him again, was what he really meant.) 

“Right,” Dean said. They both stood up and Castiel led Dean to his bedroom, their shirts lay stranded in the living room. 

————————————— 

Castiel woke up again for the second time that evening. He laid on his bed, wrapped in Dean’s arms, their naked bodies pressed together perfectly, like they were _meant_ to fit. Dean was slowly rubbing Castiel’s arms, his breath was soft and even against the back of his neck, and his legs intertwined with Castiel’s in a protective manner—like he didn’t want to let Castiel go. 

“Are you awake?” Castiel asked. 

“Mhmm,” Dean hummed. 

Castiel turned to face him, Dean’s arms stayed wrapped around him. Now, they rubbed up and down his back. 

“That feels nice.” Castiel sighed. He looked up at Dean, and could swear even in the faint darkness of his room, his eyes were glowing. 

“Everything alright?” 

Castiel smiled. “Yes. Everything is perfect.” 

Dean leaned in and kissed him softly. “Good.” 

It was true, everything was perfect. And for the first time in a long time, Castiel was starting to believe it. It was perfect when Dean sat Castiel on the bed, cupping his cheeks and kissing him with more fire and passion than Castiel had ever known. It was perfect when Dean made sure Castiel wanted it, and yes—fuck yes—Castiel wanted it. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Dean told him, eyes meeting his. Castiel nodded and Castiel glanced down when Dean slowly started to undo the zipper of his jeans. Dean pulled down his pants in front of Castiel, keeping his boxer-briefs on. Castiel swallowed. He was that much closer to seeing Dean’s cock, which was hard and throbbing beneath Dean’s underwear. 

Castiel fumbled with his own pants, having a hard time removing them while sitting down, without losing his balance. He briefly stood up to let his pants fall to his ankles. He stepped out of them and was standing right in front of Dean, inches from his face. He could feel Dean’s hot breath against his cheeks as he leaned in and kissed Dean hard. 

Dean moaned and placed his hands on Castiel’s waist, pulling him in. Their dicks rubbed together, the friction of the fabric between them was antagonizing for Castiel. He pulled Dean onto the bed with him and could feel Dean’s smile against his lips. Dean ran a hand down Castiel’s chest and stopped just shy of Castiel’s underwear. 

“Is this okay?” he asked. 

Castiel breathed heavily and nodded. Dean kissed him again, but this time it was more gentle. He teased Castiel by placing a couple fingers beneath the band of his boxer-briefs, skirting them across his hipbone. He stopped just shy of Castiel’s cock, which was undoubtedly hard and leaking precome. 

“Still okay?” 

“ _Yes_.” Castiel growled, grabbing onto Dean’s neck and pulling him in, opening his mouth against Dean’s. Dean didn’t need to ask again and placed his hand underneath Castiel’s briefs and grabbed onto his cock. Castiel shivered. “Don’t stop.” 

He stroked and teased around the tip, making Castiel shudder with nearly every movement. Dean kissed his way down Castiel’s neck, stopping to suck hard above Castiel’s collarbone. Castiel was panting, grabbing at Dean’s back. Dean moved away, hand letting go of Castiel’s cock, which only made Castiel frown. Dean manoeuvred himself down the bed, and grabbed at Castiel’s underwear, slowly pulling them down. His eyes never left Castiel’s and he looked for approval before revealing Castiel’s cock, to which Castiel nodded vigorously. 

Dean discarded Castiel’s underwear somewhere off in the distance of his room. Dean kissed and sucked at Castiel’s stomach, so close but definitely too far away from where Castiel wanted him. Dean looked up at Castiel, inches from his throbbing dick. 

“Please,” Castiel panted. 

That was all Dean needed. He licked the underside of Castiel’s cock from the bottom, all the way to the tip, sucking gently at the head and swallowing his precome. Castiel writhed beneath him and whimpered when Dean sucked him in again. Dean rubbed his hands up and down Castiel’s thighs, sending bolts of electricity straight to his cock, which twitched in Dean’s mouth. Dean hummed in satisfaction, making Castiel moan and throw his head back against the pillows. 

Warmth began to build in the base of Castiel stomach as Dean bobbed his head, moving faster and sucking harder. Castiel’s breathing was erratic, and he was sure he was making all of the sounds in the book that one would make when getting sucked off by the hottest man in the world. Dean found his sweet spot which made Castiel flinch, throwing his hands down into Dean’s hair and grabbing hold. Dean moaned against his dick, making Castiel curl his toes. 

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” Castiel moaned. 

Dean grabbed onto Castiel’s hips and held tight, likely leaving bruises. He swallowed Castiel whole, hallowing his cheeks, and hummed, making Castiel come undone. He came with a shout, hands grasping at Dean’s hair, hips bucking up and his head threw back and hit the pillow hard. His pleasure spread throughout his body, flushing his chest and face. His hips rutted up once more as he spilled his last bout of come into Dean’s mouth. He looked down and watched as Dean finished licking up any escaped come off the side of his cock. Dean pulled his lips off and smiled humbly. Castiel hoisted himself up on his elbows to look at Dean. 

“That,” he breathed, “was amazing.” 

Dean crawled up Castiel’s body, kissing his way up, leaving soft wet spots that felt cool on his skin. Castiel shuddered when Dean licked at one his nipples, teeth gently nipping and sucking at it, making it firm. Castiel hissed when Dean sucked harder. 

“Sorry baby,” Dean smirked. He moved up and kissed Castiel’s cheek before kissing his lips, sticking his tongue inside Castiel’s mouth. Castiel could still taste himself on Dean’s lips and he hummed at how much it actually turned him on. 

****Castiel brought a hand to Dean’s face, cupping his cheek as Dean kissed him. Castiel traced his fingers down Dean’s jawline and down his neck, making Dean shudder at the light touch. He skirted his hand down Dean’s abdomen, stopping just shy of his boxers.** **

Dean pulled away from Castiel’s lips only to huskily say, “Please, Cas. I want you.” 

Castiel’s mouth closed around Dean’s as his hand slipped beneath the elastic of the boxers, finding Dean’s hard cock. Dean stifled a moan as Castiel slowly stroked and teased him. 

“Is this okay?” Castiel asked, picking up speed and tightening his grip. 

“Y—yes. Don’t stop,” Dean whined. Dean’s mouth was slack, eyes were shut, as Castiel jerked him. Dean’s eyelids fluttered as his eyes rolled back, a deep moan building. Castiel kissed the edge of his lips softly, slowly lapping his tongue into Dean’s mouth, making Dean hum with pleasure. “That feels so good baby.” 

Castiel let go and pushed Dean away from him, Dean’s surprised look made Castiel smirk as he pinned Dean onto his back. Dean’s eyes went wide, and then turned dark as Castiel brought his mouth down to Dean’s crotch, sucking along the side of Dean’s cock—over the boxers—tormenting Dean. 

Dean started to pant with anticipation, hands roaming all over his body, trying to stimulate other areas of pleasure while Castiel slowed his pace. When he noticed Dean twisting at his nipples, he stopped. 

“Hands off,” Castiel demanded. “Don’t touch yourself. I need you to keep your arms at your sides at all times. Do you understand?” He waited for Dean to respond. Dean nodded so fast and hard that Castiel swore he was vibrating. Maybe he was. “If you do not listen, I will have to find other ways to restrain you—if you’ll allow it, that is.” Dean’s eyes widened again and he licked his lips. He nodded again. 

“I’ll make sure to bring the handcuffs next time,” Dean winked and placed his hands to his sides. “I promise I’ll be good.” 

Castiel looked at him through his lashes and Dean’s cock twitched beneath the boxers. 

“Cas, you’re killing me here.” 

“I know.” Castiel smiled. 

Castiel laced his fingers under the band of Dean’s boxers and pulled them down, Dean’s cock bobbing back up and hitting his stomach. Castiel discarded the underwear off the side of the bed and watched as Dean’s precome leaked out. 

He leaned in and looked up at Dean as he wrapped his mouth around the head and licked at the precome. Dean shivered and moaned as Castiel stuck his tongue into the slit of Dean’s cock, humming when he was rewarded with another twitch, and more precome leaked out. 

“Cas, _please_ ,” Dean begged. Castiel lifted his head up. 

“Don’t be greedy, Dean. You must be patient.” He rubbed along the sides of Dean’s thighs. Castiel was loving every second of this. Dean sighed and Castiel could tell he was trying to restrain from touching himself. “You’re being so good.” 

Dean whimpered. 

Castiel placed his hands on Dean’s hips and kissed the underside of his cock—leaving slow, wet kisses that left Dean melting beneath him. Dean’s hands were twitching at his sides. 

“Be good,” was all Castiel said before he enveloped Dean’s cock and sucked hard, making Dean flinch and cry out. 

“ _Fuck_ Cas!” 

Castiel moved his tongue around the head as he sucked hard, Dean’s breathing already becoming erratic. He bobbed his head up and down, going fast, and then going slow. He swallowed Dean whole, sucking hard at the base of Dean’s cock. 

“Jesus Christ, Cas.” 

Castiel hummed in response, making Dean moan and arch his back. Castiel was still holding onto Dean’s hips, pressing harder when he could feel them trying to buck up. He slowly moved up to the tip, and then swallowed Dean again. He hallowed his cheeks and began to move up and down, still keeping the majority of Dean’s twitching cock in his throat. 

“Cas, baby. I’m—gonna come s-soon, I’m—so close, baby.” 

Dean’s hands balled into fists and Castiel tightened his grip on Dean’s hips, making Dean bite his lip as he tried not to move. Castiel squeezed his lips as he moved down again, feeling Dean vibrate beneath him. Dean’s breath caught in his throat as he twitched his hips. Castiel hummed and Dean came. 

“ _Cas!_ ” 

Dean’s back arched and his hips thrusted upwards, sending his cock further into Castiel’s throat. Castiel let go of Dean’s hips, encouraging Dean to ride out his orgasm by fucking his mouth. Castiel hummed and groaned through it all, swallowing every last bit of come that shot out of Dean.  
Dean panted as he finished climaxing, legs giving out, and his fists finally relaxing. Castiel took his lips off of Dean’s now sensitive cock and crawled up beside Dean. 

“Where the fuck did _that_ come from?” Dean cried out. He looked at Castiel. “God—you make mine look like I was an amateur! That was—” 

“Was it good?” 

“Good? You’re asking me if it was—” Dean shook his head. “That was probably the best orgasm I’ve ever had—no seriously. That was fucking _amazing_." 

“I’m glad it was satisfactory,” Castiel replied. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and Castiel looked up to kiss him. 

Dean hummed his agreement. 

"It was more than," Dean whispered when they parted. He smiled softly and kissed Castiel again. 

Castiel turned himself around so that his back was against Dean’s chest. Dean pulled the blankets over the both of them. Castiel caressed Dean’s arm that was wrapped around his waist. 

“You were so good,” Castiel praised. He felt Dean kiss the back of his neck. 

“You too, baby.” 

It was perfect when Dean sighed and held him tighter. 


	8. Vincent Van Gogh Out With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to have the entire fic uploaded by the end of the weekend (but we'll see--if not it'll be by Monday or Tuesday). Editing isn't taking as long since they were already beta'd but I need to focus on my uni work. I'll probably upload a couple more today and then see where we are from there. 
> 
> A little known fact: I'm an art major, so this chapter was dear to me. Also the title I stole from a post I saw about art nerds' Valentine's Day cards and I couldn't resist :P 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)  
> There's some light smut at the end, and prepare for next chapter. It's like 90% smut. If it's not something you're into just skip over it lmao

Castiel stirred himself awake, aware of the warm body still sleeping beside him. He rubbed his eyes and sighed contently. He let himself drift in and out of sleep for about twenty minutes, all while listening to Dean breathing. Out of nowhere, Dean's arm flung out and wrapped around his waist, pulling him in and tickling his ribs. Castiel shouted and scrambled to get away but Dean's hold was far too strong as he held on to Castiel tighter. One of Dean's legs wrapped around his thighs and locked him in. 

Tears were beginning to stream down Castiel's face as he laughed. 

“Okay, okay stop!” Castiel cried, still laughing. Dean loosened his grip and laughed. 

“Good morning,” Dean quirked. 

“Yeah—good _morning_.” Castiel's eyes narrowed as he tried to move himself up, expecting Dean to attack again, but he didn't. His face relaxed when Dean sat up with him. 

“How was your sleep?” Dean asked. He rubbed his hand along Castiel's thigh. It took him a couple tries to move his mouth and answer him. 

“It was—very good, yours?” 

Dean smiled. “It was awesome.”

“That’s—good.” Castiel swallowed. Dean didn't stop rubbing his thigh.

“Mhmm,” Dean nodded. 

They were still naked from last night, and Castiel could feel Dean as he pressed against him, his cock slowly becoming hard against Castiel’s ass. Castiel’s cock twitched up as Dean’s hand slowly caressed up his thigh and lingered, hovering above Castiel’s dick. Castiel turned and kissed Dean furiously, stifling a moan when Dean grabs ahold of him, stroking his cock with a firm hand.

Castiel didn’t need much else to help wake him up.

 

Dean left around 10:00 AM, after they finished handling each other, and washing up. They shared breakfast on the back porch, the sun already hot and the air humid. Castiel was going to have to remember to turn on his air conditioning if was going to want to concentrate on his marking and not die in the heat.

Castiel worked his way through the essays that his students wrote. That was the hard part about being an English teacher. Writing assignments were always the most tedious part of marking. He had his students conduct arguments on their readings on _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and he was quite impressed with their work. Or maybe he was just in a _really_ good mood (read: obviously in a really good mood). He managed to finish marking the essays by the end of the day, giving him time to go for an evening run. 

Knowing where he was going to end up, he decided to pick wild flowers along the way, a smile never leaving his face, until he walked up to the gate of the cemetery. His smile slowly faded as anxiety kicked in. 

_Why are you anxious? It’s not like he can actually say anything_ , Castiel thought to himself. 

He made his way through the rows of headstones, the setting sun giving off an orange glow to everything it touched. He sat himself in front Balthazar’s grave and placed the flowers by his name. 

“Hey Balthy,” Castiel said. “I know I’m early again, but I just had to come and see you. I hope you don’t mind, but I brought you some flowers. I’ll be honest and tell you that I didn’t buy them.” He chuckled.

He made himself more comfortable by crossing his legs and resting his hands behind him, leaning back. He sat like that for a few moments, listening to the birds chirp in the trees, and the light breeze tickling the leaves and overgrown grass as it swept down. The air was still humid, and quite warm. Sweat was making Castiel’s shirt stick to his back and he pulled the shirt out, waving it back and forth to move some air in between. He brought himself forward, sitting up and looking at Balthazar’s headstone. 

He told Balthazar about his date with Dean. How perfect it was, how amazing it made him feel. He wanted to share everything with Balthazar; it was the only way he felt like he could be close with him again, even if it was about Dean. Somehow, he felt a connection with Dean that he knew only Balthazar would understand—he had it with him too. But Castiel was beginning to feel subtle differences in himself when he was around Dean—something that was different from Balthazar. 

With Dean, he was more relaxed. He laughed more, and just overall felt better about himself. It wasn’t that Balthazar _didn’t_ make Castiel feel that way, but Castiel was beginning to wonder if maybe he was forgetting what it was like with Balthazar. And that scared him. He didn’t want to forget Balthazar, but he also wanted to be happy. Even Gabriel noticed the change. 

“Oh god, the water was _freezing_! I wanted to be mad at him, but I think I was too cold to comprehend any kind of emotion,” Castiel laughed, telling him about the jump. “We’re going on another date this week. I was thinking about taking him to the art gallery. I don’t know if he would really enjoy something like that, but the weather isn’t supposed to be the greatest so I think staying indoors would be the right thing to plan for, right? I don’t know. I’m trying not to get too anxious about it, I just really don’t know if he would like it.”

Castiel sighed. He suddenly had this pain in his chest and tried not to let it take over his emotions. 

“I know this is kind of pointless. You can’t even say anything back to make me feel better about it.” He stood up. “Anyways, I’ll be back for your birthday. I’m hoping to maybe bring Dean to introduce him to you soon, but I haven’t decided when I want to do that.”

He glanced up at the sky, the sun hiding behind the trees, and sighed again.

“I love you, Balthazar. I’ll see you soon.” Castiel turned and left the cemetery. 

It was nearly dusk by the time he returned home, having walked most of the way instead of ran. He showered and got himself ready for bed. He organized his marking so that it was ready for him to bring back to school the next morning. He didn’t bother setting an alarm to wake up early for his run; he set it for 6:30 AM and laid his phone on the bedside table. He simply just went to bed, knowing that sleep would help him feel better by morning. 

 

When his alarm went off in the morning, Castiel woke up lazily and got himself ready for work. He brushed his teeth and made breakfast, not bothering to make any smoothies. When he was leaving his driveway, his phone buzzed. He glanced down as he stopped at the road. 

**Dean Winchester** : How do you like your coffee?  
(7:40 AM)

Castiel smiled down at his phone. 

**Castiel** : Three sugar, two cream.  
(7:40 AM)

Castiel put his phone down and drove into town, a smile creeping up every once and a while. 

When Castiel got to the school, he parked not far from Dean’s and walked his way down the block. He carried his bag that held his laptop, essays, and unit tests. There was a much lighter spring in his step as he walked, and he smiled when he breathed in the warm morning air. 

“Hey stranger,” a familiar voice said behind him. Castiel could practically hear the wink coming from his voice as he turned to see Dean, in uniform ( _goddamn_ ), holding two coffees. 

“Hey yourself,” Castiel quirked back. Dean walked up beside him and handed him one. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this was needed this morning.” Castiel took a generous sip.

“Oh yeah? What’s up?” 

Castiel sighed. “Oh nothing, really. Just swarmed from the end of the year. Last night was long and I wore myself out.” ( _By talking to my dead husband and walking for two hours, he wanted to say_.) He didn’t really like lying to Dean (although it technically was true, sans visiting the dead husband) but he didn’t feel as though he was ready to talk about Balthazar.

Dean nodded. 

They turned the corner and the school came into view. 

“So have you thought about our _date_ for Friday?” Dean bumped his shoulder. 

“Yes,” Castiel smiled and nodded. “Although I’m not entirely sure if you’ll enjoy it. I tried to think of something else, but I’ve been wanting to go myself and I think it would be fun.”

“And what’s that?” Castiel watched as Dean took a sip from his coffee and looked at him. 

“Uhm, well. I really want to go to the art gallery because they got this new exhibition on Van Gogh and I thought it would be nice. But if you have a better idea, I would be happy to hear it.”

Dean grabbed his hand and stopped him. They stood in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“I told you, Cas. Anything you decide, I would be happy to do it with you. The art gallery sounds nice.” He let go of Castiel’s hand to brush his against Castiel’s cheek. 

“You think so?” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I do.” 

He smiled and leaned in, Castiel sucked in a breath when their lips touched. 

The sound of a passing car made them part. Castiel looked around for any students who may have seen but was lucky that it was still early enough that most students hadn’t arrived yet. 

“Uhm, well—I guess I should—”

“Go?” Dean finished for him. Castiel nodded. “Yeah me too. Got a fourteen hour shift coming up—awesome, I know.” 

Castiel made a face. “Well I hope everything goes well.”

“They’re not as bad as they sound.” Dean brushed the back of his hand against Castiel’s and grabbed at a finger. Castiel looked up at him as Dean leaned in once more and kissed him. 

“Have a good day, Mr. Novak.” That smug smile returned as Dean stepped back and turned away, walking back his place, where his car was still parked.

“You—you too, Officer Winchester.” Castiel caught his breath when Dean looked back and winked at him. 

 

The rest of the day went rather swimmingly if Castiel said so himself. He was in a good mood and it was all thanks to Dean Winchester. 

He returned his students’ assignments and exams and gave out new ones for the week. Cracking down on the last month os school was always tiresome but Castiel knew he could do it. Just like he always did. He could tell the students were worn out and he would always sympathize with them, knowing how they felt—especially being the one to create all the work they’re so tired of doing. 

By the end of the day, Castiel was exhausted, but still in a good mood. He walked back to his car, glancing down Dean’s street, noticing that the Impala was still gone and that Dean wouldn’t be off shift for another six or so hours. Castiel could never figure out how one could spend that long on a shift.

—————————————  
_Six Years Ago_

“It’s like this, Castiel,” Balthazar explained to him. “ _I’m_ at work, for twelve-fourteen hours a day, sometimes more or less—doing my job: serving and protecting. _You_ go to work for eight hours, come home and do marking, lesson planning, all that jazz. Still with me?” Castiel nodded, rolling his eyes. “Sometimes you’re at it for _hours_. Does that not count for having a twelve hour shift if you’re marking for four hours?”

“Yeah but you’re looking at it all wrong. At least I get to do all of that _at home_ , so it doesn’t really feel like work, Balthazar,” Castiel replied. They were sitting in a small pub booth just off the corner of Main Street in Garrison Falls. They had been dating for nearly a year and Castiel couldn’t be happier. 

Balthazar was amazing. He was witty, cunning, and impossibly good looking. His humour came out in bouts of sarcasm that Castiel felt only he could understand. His blond hair brought out the blue in his eyes that shone bright whenever he talked about something he was passionate about.

“Yeah but you’re _still_ working regardless of where you’re sitting, Castiel.”

Castiel shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like work. They say that if you pick a job you love, you’ll never _truly_ be working.”

“It’s still work.” Balthazar shook his head and took a sip of his beer.

“And,” Castiel added, “I’m not necessarily putting my life out on the line being a teacher, either, so there’s that.” 

“Now _that_ is completely different territory.” 

—————————————

Castiel smiled at the memory and continued walking to his car. He glanced at the other side of the street which wasn't far from his encounter with those men. It was hard for Castiel to believe that it's only been just barely a month since it happened—a month since he and Dean met. God, it felt like ages ago. 

He got into his car and made his way back home. He was halfway there when a set of blue and red lights lit up behind him. He looked down at his speedometer and realized he was driving over the speed limit. 

“Shit,” he said out loud as he pulled over on the side of the road. 

He began to get his insurance and license ready when he glanced in his side mirror and barked out a laugh. Dean was stepping out of his police cruiser and looking smug about it. Castiel shook his head and chuckled as Dean walked up to his car, tapping on the window. Castiel's shoulders were shaking from laughter as he rolled his window down. 

“Good evening, sir. Do you know how fast you were going?”

“Evening, _Officer_ ," Castiel started, chuckling. "I was going roughly 70 miles an hour.”

“In a 60 zone?” Dean whistled. "Can you explain to me why you were going so fast?”

Castiel looked down, trying to hide his smile. “I wasn't paying attention.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, yeah—that’s what they _all_ say.” He leaned forward, placing his arms on the roof of Castiel’s car.

“How ‘bout this,” Dean continued, “I give you a free pass, if you promise to make me some of that bread of yours. I’m afraid I’ve run out.”

Castiel dropped his head and laughed. When he looked up, Dean's eyes were bright and lively. 

“Of course, I would happily make you some bread.” Castiel shot a big smile up at Dean and was rewarded with a smile in return. The kind that crinkled the corners of Dean's eyes and made Castiel's stomach flip. 

He was so goddamn beautiful. 

“Sounds good, Teacher. I hope you have a nice evening.” Dean winked at Castiel. 

“You too, Officer.” Castiel attempted to wink back but probably looked like he got something in his eye.

Dean hesitated and looked around before leaning in and kissing Castiel on the cheek. 

“See you Friday,” he said as he backed away. 

Castiel blew out a breath he didn't notice he was holding in. 

“See you Friday.” 

 

Tuesday and Wednesday passed in a blur; Castiel blinked and they were gone. He nearly forgot about Dean’s request for bread until Thursday afternoon when he returned from work and pulled out his last loaf from the freezer. His stomach dropped and he threw the loaf back in the freezer and went straight to the pantry. He had just enough flour to make a few loaves so that’s what he was going to make for Dean. 

It was almost 5:00 PM so the bread was going to take a couple hours to complete, which he wasn’t pleased about. He bustled about his kitchen, grabbing the yeast and salt. He mixed up his dry ingredients and slowly added the water, creating a paste that quickly turned into dough. He placed the bowl in the living room where the west facing window brought in the most light. He covered the bowl with a towel and left it to rise. 

He let out a heavy sigh and sat on the couch. He flipped through some TV channels, which was something he rarely did. He half wondered why he even had a TV but then he remembered him and Dean on this very couch, and he considered that his TV was very important. 

When his dough was risen, he brought his dough to the kitchen table where he floured the surface and stretched the dough out, and slammed it on the table. He kneaded it thoroughly and got as many of the air bubbles out as he could find. He nearly forgot to grease the pans and had to run back into his pantry to retrieve the package of lard. He quickly greased the pans and placed the portioned dough, letting them settle. 

He let them sit for about an hour before they were ready to go in the oven. 

Once they were in the hot oven, he set a timer and went outside to tend to his chickens. The air was still warm and muggy, and Castiel could tell that the weather forecast was going to prove correct and it would likely be raining by tomorrow morning. He threw feed at his chickens and went inside the pen to inspect the coop and make sure it was ready if they were going to be getting a storm. It wasn’t in the forecast, but Castiel wanted to make sure, just to be safe. He noticed that there were a few screws missing and made a mental note to pick some up, but for the most part it looked like it would survive a rainstorm. 

The chickens pecked around him and he smiled down as they jumped around his feet, trying to get as much of the seed as they could. He inspected the pen fence and made sure it was still sturdy. He spent his remaining time outside reading, waiting for the timer to go off on the oven.  

When he heard the familiar beeping of his oven timer, he returned to the kitchen where the warm air wafted the smell of the golden bread that glistened in the oven. He set them out to cool, and gave them a thin coat of butter on the top crust. His stomach growled and he realized that he hadn’t eaten anything for supper yet. 

Castiel opted for a Greek salad and added some of his left over chicken breast from last night. He ate outside in relative silence—aside from his chickens—and was content. He was finally calming down after being flustered from almost forgetting about the bread. He realized that it probably wasn’t necessary for him to have it ready for their date, but he figured it was only polite. When he was finished with his meal, he washed his dishes and bagged his now cooled bread and set them on the counter, out of the sunlight. 

He proceeded to go about his evening in a routinely manner. Later that evening, he showered, brushed his teeth, and got himself ready for bed. He changed out of his clothes and retired to a faded tee shirt and a clean pair of boxers. It was at that moment that he realized he was going on a second _official_ date with Dean Winchester tomorrow. 

Tomorrow. 

—————————————

Castiel woke up in a jolt after hearing his alarm. He was more tired than he’d ever felt, and that was saying a lot. He felt as though he didn’t sleep at all and was unbelievably nervous. He dragged himself to his bathroom where he started a hot shower to help wake him up. The water did help but he was still not awake enough to go about his day. 

When he made it to the kitchen, he started a pot of coffee. He waited impatiently for it to brew and felt as if he was waiting for paint to dry. When the last drop finally dripped, he poured himself a generous cup and added his favourable cream and sugar. He cooked himself up some toast and spread his very own peanut butter and jam (both home-made) on top. It was the only thing he knew that was simple enough to make without catastrophe. 

He glanced at his reflection in the kitchen window and sighed. 

He looked like shit. 

 

When he arrived at work, he was looking more awake and less dead; more approachable than he would have been had he not had any coffee. Coffee was very important to Castiel. The air was cool and damp as he walked towards the school; the ground still wet from a the rain that showered in the early hours of the morning. Castiel tried as hard as he could to avoid stepping in any puddles. 

The morning went by about as swiftly as he could have hoped, and he was relieved when the lunch bell finally rang. He decided to eat in his now empty classroom—mainly to avoid Jo's stare and teasing questions. 

He pulled out his phone and texted Dean. 

**Castiel** : I was thinking we could go to Ellen’s for supper.  
What do you think?  
(12:23 PM)

He waited a few moments and finished his chicken wrap (none of his chickens) and smiled when his phone lit up. 

**Dean Winchester** : Awesome. I haven’t been to see her in a while so it’ll be nice. What time? Or did you just want to come chill here before we go?  
(12:24 PM)

**Castiel** : I’ll see what time I finish up here.  
I have a few assignments that I want to have  
finished before the weekend.  
I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.  
(12:24 PM)

**Dean Winchester** : Sounds good.  
I can’t wait to see you.  
(12:25 PM)

**Castiel** : I’m very excited also. But I have to be honest, I might pass out when I get to your place.  
(12:25 PM)

**Dean Winchester** : Long night again?  
(12:27 PM)

**Castiel** : Mostly my anxiety got the best of me. But I’m fine.  
Just tired.  
(12:28 PM)

**Dean Winchester** : If you want to postpone,  
I will completely understand.  
(12:28 PM)

Castiel pondered about the idea—he was extremely tired; he was on his fifth cup of coffee for the day. 

**Castiel** : No. I’m fine, honestly. If we postpone it, I’ll just be the same for next time. I get extremely nervous about dates.  
(12:29 PM)

**Castiel** : Well not about dates—just about dating in general.  
(12:29 PM)

**Castiel** : It’s a long story.  
(12:29 PM)

**Dean Winchester** : Well whenever you feel comfortable telling me, I would love to hear it.  
(12:30 PM)

The bell rang for the end of lunch and Castiel didn’t want to stop texting Dean, but knew that he had to. 

**Castiel** : Thanks, Dean. That means a lot. I would love to keep chatting but lunch is over. I’ll see you later.  
(12:30 PM)

**Dean Winchester** : See you later, Cas.  
Hope your afternoon goes well.  
(12:30 PM)

**Castiel** : Thanks. Yours too.  
(12:31 PM) 

Castiel shoved his phone back in his pocket and watched as his students filed back into his classroom. This afternoon they were going to be working on poetry. It was one of Castiel’s favourite units. He was always impressed with what his students could come up with. They doubt themselves and never give enough credit, when in fact they are brilliant and Castiel was very proud of them. 

One of the students piped up and asked if they could hear one of _his_ poems. Castiel tried to hide his blush and cleared his throat. 

“Uhm, I don’t have one prepared for you today. I have a book of poems handy here, if you want me to read you one. But I don’t have one written.” He looked down at his hands that were clamped together, resting on his thighs as he sat on the edge of his desk. 

The class groaned and Castiel knew he was off the hook this one time. But he knew he would probably have to have something ready for Monday because he had a feeling they were going to ask again. 

“I’ll try and think of something this weekend. How does that sound?” 

Some of his students nodded, others weren’t paying much attention. He clapped his hands together. 

“Alright! Let’s get to it then.” Castiel stood up and began to describe their assignment and left them to their own devices. 

 

Castiel’s afternoon did go better than the morning, and he was feeling considerably better by the time he finished marking his assignments. He texted Dean as he was leaving his classroom, feeling a smile grow at the corner of his mouth. Dean just made things _better_. 

He arrived at Dean's apartment shortly after 4:00 PM, carrying the three loaves of bread he made. His hair was slightly damp from the rain that started just as he was leaving the school.

“It’s open!” he heard Dean yell from inside after he knocked. 

Castiel walked in to Dean’s apartment and was greeted with the brightest smile and shining green eyes that made Castiel’s stomach flip. Dean walked up to him and wrapped an arm around his waist, humming into Castiel’s lips. Dean pecked at his lips again when they parted and smiled.

“Hey,” Dean said, rubbing his hand smoothly up and down Castiel’s back. He looked down at what Castiel was carrying and beamed at him.

“I brought you these.” Castiel smiled back, bashful.

“You remembered! Awesome.” Castiel handed Dean the loaves and Dean walked the kitchen and put them in his freezer, leaving one out on the counter.

“How was the rest of your day?” Dean asked, walking back to Castiel, bringing his arms around to hug Castiel.

Castiel sighed. This was nice. He liked being in Dean’s arms like this, being asked such a domesticated question that left him wanting to come home and hear it everyday. He hugged him back softly before breaking away. He took Dean’s hand and led him to the living room where they sat on the couch.

“It was good, it went by fast.” Dean sat next to Castiel, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. 

“That’s good. I’m glad it went better.” Dean rubbed the side of Castiel’s bicep and Castiel sighed in comfort. Castiel closed his eyes and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. He smiled when he could hear Dean humming the song he sang the last time it was raining. 

“I like that song,” Castiel mumbled. He brought his arm to wrap around Dean’s waist and propped his legs up on the ottoman in front of the couch. Dean’s feet were already resting on it and Castiel curled one of his legs around Dean’s. 

Dean sang the song softly into Castiel’s hair and Castiel could feel himself drifting. 

“ _Can't you see that it’s just raining? There ain’t no need to go outside…_ ”

 

When Castiel opened his eyes it was nearly 5:30 PM and Dean was watching TV with the volume nearly silent. He rubbed his eyes and looked up. Dean gave him a soft smile.

“Morning.”

“It’s not morning, Dean.”

“I know,” he smirked. “I was just checking to see if you would freak out, because that would be funny.” 

Castiel sat up and looked around. His eyes stopped on the TV when he noticed what Dean was watching. 

“Star Trek?” He yawned and stretched his arms out.

“You know Star Trek?” Dean gaped. 

“Yes, I quite enjoy it.” He looked at Dean and furrowed his brows. “What?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing, I just didn’t think you could get any more awesome.”

Castiel blushed. 

“So,” Dean continued speaking, “are you ready to head over to Ellen’s?”

Castiel nodded and stood up. They put on their jackets and made their way out of Dean’s apartment, walking into the soft drizzle. 

 

It was much busier at Ellen’s diner since the last time Castiel was here—which was with Dean. Friday night, Castiel assumed. They were seated in a booth where a waitress took their drink orders. Castiel watched as Dean looked around, likely trying to see if Ellen was in. He raised an arm up and waved, standing up when Ellen approached their table.

“How's it going Ellen?” Dean wrapped his arms around her small shoulders and hugged her. He grunted when she hugged him hard in return. 

“I'm good Dean, it's always a pleasure to see you.” She smiled up at him, eyes turning to Castiel. 

“You remember meeting my friend, Castiel,” Dean said, sitting back down. 

“Yes, I do. It's nice seeing you Castiel,” she said as she shook his hand. 

“Likewise," Castiel smiled. 

“Did one of my girls take your order yet?” Ellen looked back at Dean. 

No, not yet. She's coming with our drinks.”

“Should I just make you men the usual or do you want to try something different?”

“I'm good for the usual,” Dean agrees. “Cas? What do you want?”

Castiel glanced down at his menu for a moment and spotted a vegetarian pizza that looked excellent. “I'll have a small vegetarian pizza. But can you add bacon?”

Dean snorted. “You know that's the _opposite_ of a vegetarian pizza, right?” He started laughing. Ellen waited patiently for an answer and their waitress arrived with their drinks. 

“Sue me,” Castiel countered, trying to hide his smile. “I'll have that.”

“Sounds good boys,” Ellen quirked, taking their menus. “I'll have it ready for you in a bit.”

“Thanks, El,” Dean said as she walked back towards the kitchen. The waitress continued her rotation of other tables, refilling coffees as she passed. 

Castiel took a sip of his Coke and looked up at Dean, faltering slightly when he could see how bright his eyes were, dancing under the warm lighting of the diner. He sucked from the straw slowly, watching as Dean's eyes traveled up the glass, along the straw, and stopping at his lips. 

Dean cleared his throat. “So. What's the plan for tonight? We're going to the gallery, right? How late do they stay open?” He knocked his knuckles against the table in anticipation. 

“They're closed,” Castiel said, letting the straw roll to the other side of the glass. 

“So we're not going to the gallery then?”

“Oh we are.”

“You're forgetting who's the police officer, right? We can't just _break and enter_.” Dean raised his eyebrows at Castiel. Castiel smiled smugly. 

“It isn't considered breaking and entering when you have a key.” Dean's mouth dropped. “Jo's girlfriend Charlie works at the gallery. I got us in for a private tour. Well—it’s not a private tour. It's a tour without anyone giving the tour. We'll have the whole gallery to ourselves.”

“Huh. And this is...okay? Charlie isn't going to get in trouble?”

“I know the security guard who will be on duty. He only works Friday evenings, and as long as we don't touch or break anything, we'll be fine.” Castiel shrugged. 

“Alright. But if we get in trouble, I'm arresting you to cover our tracks,” Dean suggested. He winked at Castiel, who could only squirm in his seat. The idea of being handcuffed by Dean made him uncomfortable—in the best way (as in, _get me out of this place now—let’s ditch the gallery, and handcuff me anywhere right now_ —uncomfortable). 

“Yes, well—” Castiel was interrupted by their waitress bringing them their food, which looked delicious. 

Dean shook his head when looked at Castiel’s pizza. Castiel picked up a slice and took a bite. 

“Don't judge me,” Castiel said between chews. 

“I'm not judging. I'm laughing. There's a difference.” Dean took a bite of his burger and groaned. 

“If you say so.” Castiel took another bite. His pizza melted in his mouth, all of the flavours combining into a wondrous blend of guilty pleasure that only he would understand (having put bacon on a vegetarian pizza). 

 

When they finished their supper, Castiel paid (even though Dean insisted), and they made their way back to where they parked. They took the Impala, because Dean wanted to drive, and Castiel wasn't going to argue. They arrived at the gallery shortly after 7:00 PM. The lights were out aside from the soft glow coming from the reception desk, where a figure sat, back facing them. 

Castiel unlocked the door and the security guard turned around, smiling at them. 

“Cassie, Deano!” He exclaimed. Castiel smiled nervously at Dean's expression which went from confused to annoyed, to panicked, to something Castiel could quite read, and then complacent. 

“Gabriel,” Dean replied in a normal tone. “I didn't know you worked here.”

They walked up to the desk where Gabriel sat relaxed in the black leather office chair. His arms were resting on the desk, hands together. 

“Well how could you? I don't think I've seen you look at art let alone show interest,” Gabriel teased. This was off to a _great_ start, Castiel could tell. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to come to the gallery while Gabriel was working. 

“You don’t know me, man,” Dean said back, laughing lightly, although Castiel could hear the tension in his voice.

“Gabriel works here on Fridays when he’s done at the school. That’s what he meant to say.” Castiel glared at his brother. 

“Ah, well that sounds great then,” Dean settled. 

“We’re going to make our way through now,” Castiel told Gabriel. They walked around the reception desk and made their way through the first section of the gallery. Van Gogh’s _Self Portrait With a Straw Hat_ was mounted on the wall next to his biography. 

Castiel smiled as he read it. 

“Van Gogh is one of my favourite artists,” he told Dean. Dean looked up at the painting, and Castiel could tell Dean couldn’t see what he was looking at. The intricate brushstrokes, the depth and colour; the layers and the beauty of it all, comprised into one painting. “His style is _so_ unique. There are artists out there that can replicate his work, but—it’s just not the same. I wish I could have lived in that era. Just to witness him.”

Dean was staring at him, Castiel could tell. 

“Sorry. I’m rambling,” Castiel said and looked at him.

“So you like art then?” Dean laughed, tangling their fingers together..

“That would be an understatement,” Castiel admitted. They begun to walk through the gallery. “I was actually going to major in it but my father said that there was no way I would be able to get a job with an art major. So I opted for English—which I still enjoy immensely, don’t get me wrong, it’s just…”

“Lacking?” Dean finished for him.

“Yes. I would say that is the appropriate word.” Castiel nodded.

They passed _Irises_ and _Still Life: Vase with Pink Roses_. Castiel went on to explain the detail in the brushwork. He told Dean to stand back, where he could see the painting from afar, away from the texture. Then he told Dean to come up close to the painting.

“It doesn’t even look like anything when you’re this close,” Dean shrugged. “It’s just—”

“It’s impressionism. That’s the whole point of it,” Castiel explained. He turned and walked to the next painting. Dean followed, still not quite understanding the idea of what Castiel just said.

Castiel stopped in front of _The Starry Night_ and sighed. 

“You know,” Dean said, looking at Castiel, “when Gabe said that I don’t look at art, that’s true—I don’t. I don’t go out and seek art just to _look_ at it,” he paused. “but, I see it whenever I’m with you. The way you carry yourself, how you fall asleep. The way you treat your _chickens_ ,” he laughed. “And your _incessant_ need to have everything perfect. That’s something I find beautiful. And they say art is beautiful.”

Castiel blinked. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I find you beautiful. In every aspect.” Dean was blushing, averting Castiel's eyes and looking back at the painting. 

Dean licked his lips and turned to face Castiel, taking his free hand and brushing his fingers across Castiel’s cheekbone. Castiel leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. He caught his breath when Dean kissed him, soft at first, and then once Castiel started kissing back, he added more passion. He opened his mouth and Dean slid his tongue inside, moaning when Castiel sucked on it between his lips. They wrapped their arms around each other, Dean holding the back of Castiel’s head, fingers carding through his hair. Castiel hissed when Dean grabbed at it, pulling his head back, and bit at his bottom lip. He could already feel his groin growing.

There was a ding that echoed throughout the gallery and the PA system was activated.

“I can see you guys on the cameras. Please don't have sex where I can see you.” Gabriel paused. “Correction—please don't have sex _here_.”

“There are a few more paintings I want to look at before we leave,” Castiel said, slightly out of breath. 

“Lead the way.” Dean took his hand again and they walked through the rest of the gallery, only pausing every once and a while to kiss. 

When they left, they made sure Gabriel got a show. Dean grabbed at Castiel’s ass and pressed him close, rubbing his thigh up into Castiel’s crotch, the friction unsettling against his already hardening cock. 

 

Dean pulled up into his parking stall outside his apartment and turned off the Impala. Castiel took off his seatbelt. The next thing he knew, Dean was right beside him with his hands sliding up Castiel’s shirt, sucking him in for a breathtaking kiss. 

Castiel moaned and coaxed Dean’s tongue into his mouth. Dean was beginning to unbutton Castiel’s shirt, slowly and teasingly. Castiel could feel Dean's smile against his mouth when he pressed into him again. Once Castiel’s shirt was unbuttoned, Dean pulled it over his shoulders, keeping it at Castiel’s elbows. Dean cupped Castiel’s cheek and kissed along his jaw, sucking a hot kiss just below his earlobe. He trailed kisses down his neck, sucking and nipping, and making Castiel shiver. 

Dean pulled Castiel impossibly closer to him, only to push him down against the seat, where he hovered above Castiel, licking at his earlobe and pressing his crotch against Castiel’s thigh. Castiel grabbed at Dean’s shirt and pulled it over his head, out of breath, and helplessly turned on. He opened his mouth to Dean’s and cried out when Dean bit into his lip. 

It was like a fire irrupted. Castiel growled and pulled Dean down and kissed him, bringing his own hand down and sliding it under Dean’s jeans. 

“Ugh, _yes_ ,” Dean breathed when Castiel grabbed his cock. Castiel stroked Dean as best as he could through the jeans. Dean pulled back for only a second to unbutton and unzip his pants, freeing his cock. It wasn’t long before Dean was moving his hips into Castiel’s fist, breath heavy against Castiel’s mouth. 

The windows were beginning to fog the Impala, and it was starting to get hot. Dean stopped thrusting and placed his forehead against Castiel’s. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Dean asked, panting.

Castiel took a moment to think about it. He wanted Dean. He _needed_ Dean. 

He looked into Dean’s impossibly dark eyes and nodded. He kissed Dean furiously. Dean whimpered and sucked in a breath.  
When they parted, their mouths red and swollen. 

“Yes,” Castiel breathed. “I would.”

Because Dean was beautiful. In every aspect.


	9. Like a Virgin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _TOUCHED FOR THE VERY FIRST TIIIIIME!_  
>  Just kidding.
> 
> _**NSFW** _
> 
> Seriously. SO. MUCH. SMUT.  
> Here we get some more dom!Cas hehehe  
> It's a shorter chapter but it's like literally all smut.   
> Apologies in advance if no one likes it hahaha

When Castiel was in Dean’s bedroom, he couldn’t keep his hands off of him. Dean growled at Castiel’s dominance and breathed heavily when Castiel pushed him onto the bed. He looked at him through hooded lashes and Castiel stopped and stared. Dean was _so_ breathtaking—and he wasn’t even naked yet. 

Castiel crawled up the bed and straddled Dean’s hips. He could feel Dean’s cock pulsing beneath him and if _that_ didn’t make him harder (it did). Dean was still shirtless, not having bothered to put his back on when they left the Impala. Castiel had pulled his back over his shoulders, but didn’t button it up. He discarded it somewhere off in Dean’s room, licking his lips when he saw Dean looking him over. 

He leaned down and kissed Dean hotly, intertwining their fingers together. He pulled Dean’s hands above Dean’s head and held them there. When their lips parted, and their eyes opened, they were dark and full of lust. 

“Don’t move,” Castiel demanded. “Don’t touch yourself either.”

Dean nodded and Castiel removed himself from Dean’s body, moving down and unbuttoning Dean’s jeans. Dean’s mouth was slack and lazy as he watched Castiel pull his pants down. Castiel was gracious that Dean brought his hips up to help remove them. There were only his boxers left to remove and Castiel watched as Dean’s cock twitched underneath, needy and hot. He slowly took Dean’s boxers off, watching as his cock sprung free, bobbing against his stomach. He brought his lips to it and kissed it tenderly, Dean already starting to wither. 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean said, voice husky and deep. Castiel swallowed him whole, making Dean whimper. He sucked at the head, teasing the slit and twisting his tongue around. Dean groaned, eyes closing and his head dropping back into his hands that were still held up behind him. _He remembers how to listen. Good._

“What do you want Dean?” Castiel breathed against his cock. 

“You. I want you.” 

“How? How do you want me? I need you to say it.”

Dean opened his eyes, dark, and yet still impossibly green. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

The way Dean said it, so certain and affirmative, had Castiel set on making it happen. Dean leaned over and opened the bedside table drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. He passed them to Castiel, who set them beside Dean and positioned himself between Dean’s legs. He opened the bottle of lube and slicked up his fingers. 

He teased Dean’s opening, watching him shake and catch his breath. He truly was remarkable; beautiful, as he trembled beneath Castiel’s touch. Dean’s cock was throbbing along with his heartbeat, leaking precome onto his stomach. _Oh he wanted this_. Castiel slowly inserted a finger, looking for any expressions on Dean’s face that screamed ‘no’, but Dean only covered his face with his hands, voice muffled as he spoked. 

“Oh _god_ , yes. Fuck, Cas. Yes,” Dean groaned. 

Castiel was up to his second knuckle of his first finger, feeling Dean clench around him was arousing enough. He needed to be inside of him. He teased with a second finger, Dean relaxing perfectly so that he could ease it in along with this first finger. Dean was panting. 

Now that Castiel had two fingers in, he began to stretch Dean’s hole. He moved his fingers back and forth, scissoring every once and a while, making room for another. When he had three fingers, Dean started to become impatient. Castiel could see his chest glistening with sweat as he prepped the beautiful man. 

“Fuck, Cas, you're gonna have to hurry it up or I’m gonna come right now,” Dean cried out.

“Don’t. Don’t come until I say you can. Do you understand?” Castiel added a fourth finger. It won’t be long now.

Dean whimpered. _Oh he liked it_. Dean nodded.

“I need words, Dean.”

“ _Yes_. I understand.” 

“Good. You’re doing so well, Dean. You’re so beautiful. So perfect,” he praised. 

Dean huffed out a breath and closed his eyes. Castiel pulled his fingers out and Dean whined at the loss. Castiel rolled on the condom and added lube, stroking himself and smirking when Dean opened his eyes to watch him. Castiel lined himself up to Dean, who pushed his hips upwards, making Castiel smile at the consideration. He nudged himself at Dean’s opening and waited for Dean to relax. 

“It’s been a long time since I bottomed,” Dean said, making Castiel stop. 

“You should have said something earlier. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Dean snorted. “Cas, look at my dick. I think that answers your question.”

Castiel leaned down to lick the underside of Dean’s cock from the base to the tip, lapping up the precome. Dean shook beneath him. When Castiel straightened himself out, he gently pushed himself into Dean, watching the fireworks light up as Dean cried out. He was slow at first, letting Dean stretch around him, hot and tight. Dean wouldn’t stop squirming. He panted and tried to push his hips down onto Castiel, who would only pull back.

“I said don’t move.”

Dean stilled and held his breath. Castiel pushed until he was fully seated, his dick twitching inside of Dean, who’s own dick was swelled and ready to burst. He began to move back and forth, shuddering at how _good_ Dean felt around him. It’s been so long. _Too_ long. He picked up the pace, creating an even stride while Dean broke beneath him. 

“Oh _god_ , Cas!”

“Don’t come,” Castiel reminded him. 

“Cas, move faster. Please.”

Castiel did. _Fuck_ it felt good. He pumped into Dean, holding onto this hips, hard enough that there’ll likely be bruises tomorrow. He was starting to lose rhythm, breath becoming uneven and shallow.

“Harder, baby. Please,” Dean begged. 

Castiel slowed his pace, gaining a glare from Dean. He pulled back, almost exiting completely, and then shoved himself hard and fast inside of Dean. He pulled back and pounded again.

“ _Fuck Cas!_ Again!” Dean cried out, biting down onto his own arm. 

Castiel granted Dean’s wish and kept pulling back and pushing in hard. He picked up his pace, and started to feel the low burn in the base of his stomach. He was close. Dean was crying out as Castiel hit his prostate again and again. 

“Cas baby, I’m gonna come, please.” Dean whined. “Please.”

Hearing that made Castiel tingle. 

“Beg for me,” Castiel requested. “I want you to beg.”

Dean shuddered and complied, sucking in a shaky breath. 

“Please, Cas. Can I come? Please. I need to come, I need to. I need to come,” Dean rambled, trying to catch his breath. "I’ll only do it when you say I can. I can be good. Please Cas.”

“You’ve been such a good boy,” Castiel cooed. 

Dean was whining with anticipation, but he still didn’t come. Castiel was impressed. 

Castiel could feel his orgasm approaching, heating him up quickly as he began to slow his pace down, preparing for his release. His breath becoming erratic, short, and hollow as he reached his climax.

“Dean,” he grunted. “You can come.”

 

And like that, the fires erupted; bursting into flames as the two came together. Dean cried out Castiel’s name, shooting hot come all over his own abdomen, and up his chest. Castiel filled the condom up with his own, stilling as he let the first bouts of his orgasm flood. He slowly moved himself as he rode out his orgasm, shuddering as he came down from his euphoria. He waited until Dean stopped coming (which was an impressive amount, Castiel had to admit—especially for not laying a finger on his cock) before he slowly inched out, wary of the tenderness that followed, the burning flash. 

Both men were out of breath and spent. Castiel leaned down and kissed Dean softly before he got up and discarded the condom in the trash. He walked into Dean’s bathroom to wash his hands and grab a warm cloth to clean Dean up with. 

Dean was still lying on his back, his legs spread. His body was sheen with sweat and come, and _god_ was he ever gorgeous. Castiel wanted to see him like that every night. He sat himself next to Dean and gently wiped away the mess. Dean was still trying to catch his breath. 

When Castiel finished cleaning Dean, he brought the washcloth to the bathroom sink and rinsed it out, discarding it in Dean’s laundry basket when he returned. He curled into bed with Dean, spooning him, and leaving soft praises into his neck. Dean turned over and kissed him softly, tongue quickly peaking out to wipe across Castiel's bottom lip. When he looked into Dean’s eyes, there was something. 

Was he—was Dean _crying?_ It was hard to tell because Dean buried himself in Castiel's neck before he could truly see, but Castiel was _sure_. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean and kissed his forehead. 

“You were so perfect, Dean. So perfect.”

Dean sniffled and Castiel knew. He lifted Dean's chin and looked at him. Dean tried to hide away his tears but Castiel stopped him, wiping them from his eyes with the pad of his thumb. 

“Talk to me,” he said, now rubbing his cheek. 

Dean huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “I told you it's been a while.” 

“It's been a while for me too,” Castiel admitted quietly, nodding. He could see there was a loss in Dean's eyes, the green turning empty as it drifted in thought. 

“Yeah, well.” Dean sighed. 

“May I ask what happened?”

Dean was silent for a while, collecting his thoughts. He grabbed at Castiel's hand and held it in his, kissing his knuckles tenderly. 

“I was dumped,” Dean said, looking up at Castiel. “But not in the cliché kind of way where it was just like 'we're over' type deal—no. I was in love with him. And he said he was too, but he left. Told me he had somebody else, and that they were going to get _married_. We dated for over a year, and he left me for someone else. Worse was, he cheated on me. For the _entire_ year we were together. It broke me.”

“I'm so sorry Dean,” Castiel whispered, running a hand softly through Dean's hair. 

“I left town,” Dean continued. “Quit my job and went off on the road for a couple years. I had to leave, the place was too haunting without his presence and I panicked—I guess. Life without him seemed so meaningless. I stopped dating for a long while. Every time I would try, I would have trust issues and it broke a lot of the relationships I had—or tried to have. I couldn't focus on anything else. But then I met you.”

Warmth swelled inside of Castiel. 

“What made you change?” Castiel asked, carefully. 

“I dunno. I guess with you, I wasn't really trying.” Castiel raised his eyebrows. “Okay, so I flirted with you—a lot—yeah, fine,” Dean laughed. “But it just felt natural, you know? Like I was meant to find you in that street, with those guys. Do I sound crazy?”

Castiel chuckled. “No. You don't sound crazy, it's endearing actually.”

“So you think it's cute.”

“I think _you're_ cute,” Castiel smirked. Dean smiled and leaned up, pressing his lips against Castiel's. 

“I think you're pretty cute too,” he said when they parted. 

Castiel smiled again and snuggled even closer to Dean, holding him in his arms. 

They fell asleep to the sound of each other's breathing. 

 

The air was different waking up in Dean’s apartment. It was louder, being in town. The air was denser, less clean. It made Castiel appreciate where he lived; he enjoyed it outside of the traffic and in his own little world. He sipped on coffee while Dean showered, having already showered himself. Dean’s bathroom was rather cramped and the shower was too small for two grown men to stand comfortably in. They would have to shower at Castiel’s if they wanted to do it together. 

The morning light refracted through north facing windows, where Castiel could see dust particles floating magically around him. He thought about last night. The way Dean seemed hesitant at first. _It’s been a while since I bottomed_ still rang in Castiel’s ears, Dean’s voice sounding nervous and unsure. When they both had woken, Dean wasn’t nervous or unsure. He was comfortable. He was _happy_. Which made Castiel relax. The last thing Castiel wanted was for it to all be a mistake and regret everything. But Dean was very convincing when he stroked Castiel’s morning wood—waking him up completely when he went down on him. Castiel came down Dean’s throat with a low grunt and stuttered breath, fingers clenched in bedsheets. 

It’s only good manners to return such good favours, but Castiel liked to tease. And Dean liked to be teased, it appeared. When Dean returned from beneath the sheets, Castiel grabbed Dean and pulled him in for a deep kiss, moaning when Dean forced his tongue into his mouth. Castiel broke away for a moment, only to place his first two fingers into Dean’s mouth. Dean’s brows furrowed as he whimpered at the sudden demand, sucking on Castiel’s fingers, swirling his tongue around. 

Castiel pulled his fingers out and brought them between Dean’s legs, pressing up against his hole. He pushed one finger in with ease, and then added the second shortly after. He pressed his fingers in deeper, all while Dean withered. When Dean was about good and breathless, Castiel took his free hand and stroked Dean with a firm hand. He leaned down and opened his mouth just as Dean came, perfect aim; not a drop wasted as he swallowed. 

“That was so hot,” Dean breathlessly commented as Castiel pulled away. 

Castiel wiped the corners of his mouth and smiled, still tasting the bitterness on his tongue. 

“Shower?” Castiel asked.

“You go ahead. I’ll have one after you. We both won’t fit.” Dean rubbed his eyes. “Oh—and uh, there’s a new toothbrush in the drawer you can use.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll be quick.” He pecked Dean’s cheek and got up, smiling back at Dean as he shut the bathroom door.

 

Now that he sat in Dean’s kitchen, waiting for Dean to return, he thought about his first time. Cas generally liked to top, most of the time (read: _most_ of the time; occasionally bottomed, rarely, but it was savoured). 

Balthazar was gentle and very good with aftercare, which made the experience worth while for Castiel. It was a struggle, having two tops in a relationship, so compromise had to be considered. Castiel cried too, after his first time. The amount of raw emotion that a person doesn’t even know is there until it had been slammed up their ass, was astounding; Balthazar was perfect. He made sure Castiel was comfortable, even gave him a safe word—which Castiel now pondered about and slightly regretted not asking Dean, but he did make sure Dean wanted it; he’ll make sure to bring it up next time. 

_Next time_. Butterflies bloomed at the thought. 

Dean emerged from his bedroom, in only a pair of sweatpants, skin still damp from the shower. Castiel tried not to ogle, but he couldn’t help it. Dean was just so damn beautiful, it was hard not to look. His green eyes found Castiel’s and he smiled, walking up to where he sat and kissed the top of Castiel’s head. He went and got himself a cup of coffee and sat next to Castiel.

“Morning babe,” Dean said.

“Good morning.” Castiel liked it when Dean called him that. It made him feel fuzzy and warm inside. 

“Did you eat anything yet? There’s not much here but I can whip up a good omelette if you like.” Dean sipped his black coffee carefully, wincing at the temperature.

“I didn’t, no. But I should probably go. I would love to stay, but I have unit tests to create.” Dean frowned slightly but nodded in understanding. “Are you busy Sunday night? Maybe we could have another movie night?” Castiel nudged at Dean’s elbow. 

“Yeah that would be great,” Dean smiled. “Oh! Wait, Sam’s leaving town that day so I’ll have the dog.”

“That’s okay. You can bring her.” Castiel drank the last of his coffee and stood up to place it in the sink. Dean stood up too and walked him to the door. 

Dean pulled him into a hug and Castiel didn’t ever want to let go. 

 

Sunday came and Dean arrived at around 7:00 PM. Sadie bolted out of Dean’s car and ran straight for the chicken coop, which had Dean yelling for Castiel from outside as he tried to tackle the dog, all of which could be seen from Castiel’s kitchen window. When Castiel came outside, Dean was standing in front of Sadie, guarding the pen with his arms and legs spread out wide, face red. 

Castiel shook as he laughed at the sight.

“They’re in their coop, Dean. Don’t worry. She’s too big, she won’t fit inside to get at them anyways,” Castiel called, reassuringly. He threw the dishtowel that was still held in his hands over his shoulder and walked up to the odd coupling. 

“Oh.” Dean dropped his arms and beckoned Sadie to follow him as he started towards Castiel. Sadie stared longingly at the coop, whining, but was distracted by Castiel calling her. 

“Want a treat Sadie?” He held out (empty) fingers, beckoning her to come. Her ears perked up and she trotted over to him. Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Come on, let’s get you both inside.” 

Once Dean and Sadie were inside, Castiel continued to dry the rest of his dishes and put them away. Dean leaned against the island and watched him. Sadie went about the house, exploring. 

“She’s not gonna get into anything, is she?” Dean asked, turning to watch Sadie as she sniffed around the house.

“No. She shouldn’t,” Castiel assured him. 

Dean nodded and went back to watching Castiel. “Do you need any help with anything?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dean. I’m not going to invite you over to put away my dishes,” Castiel smirked.

Dean laughed. “Alright then.”

 

The rest of the evening went well, in Castiel’s opinion. Dean held his hand during the movie (Star Trek) and Castiel leaned on his shoulder. They made out on the couch after the movie, but didn’t proceed to the bedroom. Castiel needed to get to bed early for work the next day. 

He followed Dean to the door as he was leaving. 

“Lunch tomorrow?” Dean asked, nuzzled into Castiel’s neck as he hugged him.

“It’s a date.”

Dean left with a wink and Castiel was hooked.


	10. Life and Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are coming to the midpoint of my fic!   
> Thank you so much for all of the comments and kudos!!
> 
> Fair warning, this one is sad :(   
> BUT I MAKE UP FOR IT WITH SMUT AT THE END :D  
> Bottom!Cas is a go. >:)

The rest of the month whizzed by faster than Castiel could wrap his head around. He was swept off of his feet by Dean and he didn’t think he could be happier. As the school year came to an end, Castiel was dreading how fast it was wrapping up. The quicker it came, the quicker Balthazar’s birthday was approaching—and that was never a good time of the year for Castiel. 

He spent Balthazar’s birthday alone at the cemetery. He didn’t even tell Dean, but he didn’t want to. Not yet. He wanted to spend it with Balthazar, and only Balthazar. He told Dean that he had to take a personal day and go out of town for a family gathering. Dean was understanding, and Castiel was grateful that Dean was working otherwise he figured Dean would ask to attend with him. 

The day was gloomy, and Castiel took it as a sign that the world was sad today too. He bought a bouquet of tiger lilies (Balthazar's favourite) in a beautiful arrangement and brought them with him when he went to the cemetery. He placed them in front of Balthazar’s headstone and stood back. He wore a suit and tie; the tie was a light pastel-orange colour that Balthazar always said brought out the blue in his eyes. The suit was a light tan colour and his shirt was white. He left the jacket undone. It was hot today and Castiel was adamant on wearing his suit but he hadn’t any other reason to wear it. 

He didn't want to sit on the grass and stain his pants so he stayed standing. He had his hands in his pockets and inside the right were Balthazar’s pins; in the left, were their wedding rings. He fiddled with rings in between his fingers and felt like putting them on, but feared he would forget about them and Dean would ask. Instead he just rubbed them tenderly, sighing and trying not to cry. 

Balthazar would turning 40 years old this year. He wondered what they would have done for it. Another milestone, another decade. Castiel met Balthazar when he was 23, who seemed so mysterious to Castiel, being nearly 10 years older than him. Balthazar was always one for the parties, and Castiel was always adamant about them, but he would do them for Balthazar. They would probably throw a big party, with their closest friends, which would likely go on into the early hours of the morning.

He thought about the surprise party Balthazar threw him for his 25th birthday. At the time, Balthazar was working in a town a few hours away and would only come home on the weekends, so Castiel truly had no idea what was going on when he came home. _Apparently_ , Balthazar paid one of Castiel’s nearby neighbours to let his guests park their cars and walk to Castiel’s—so that Castiel wouldn’t see all of the vehicles in his yard. He had come home, and instantly could tell there was a weird energy in the air—he _knew_ something was up. 

—————————————  
 _Five Years Ago_

It was a cool Friday evening, so he wasn’t overly surprised to see Balthazar when he came into view. He kissed his boyfriend and hugged him tight. A week was far too long to go without seeing each other, he decided. 

When Balthazar pulled away, Castiel didn’t miss the glint in his eyes that always screamed trouble. He was about to say something to him when Balthazar took his hand and led him through the back door where at least 30 people were waiting. Streamers and balloons hung around the back yard, along with a string of lights that gave off the warm glow. 

“SURPRISE!” Everyone yelled in unison. 

Castiel could tell Balthazar was looking at him anxiously for his response, which was blank, because Castiel didn’t know how to respond to social cues. Castiel smiled sheepishly and looked around the crowd. 

“What is this?” he asked, looking back at Balthazar.

“It’s your birthday party, sweetheart!” Balthazar wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. He guided him off the back porch and onto the lawn where Gabriel was just starting to make a fire. People gathered around, holding their drinks, greeting Castiel with smiles, handshakes, and some hugs. 

Castiel never had anyone throw him a surprise birthday party—not even when he was a kid. He felt foolish walking around people that he wasn’t expecting to interact with, and was hoping that it wasn’t showing on his face. 

It was hard for Castiel.

 

When the night was over and Castiel was exhausted from the day and the party, him and Balthazar lay entangled in their bed. Castiel wore Balthazar’s shirt and Balthazar laid naked beside him, spent from their sexual activities prior. 

“I’m sorry if I wasn’t as in tune with the rest of the party,” Castiel sighed.

“Don’t apologize, love. I know how much you detest parties,” Balthazar told him. He ran his hand along Castiel’s arm. “I was reluctant to throw it but Gabriel thought it was a good idea and helped with the planning.”

Castiel snorted. “Of course he did.”

“Maybe I should have just had a night in for the two of us.”

“No, it’s fine Balthazar, I appreciate it. It was nice seeing everyone, even if I looked like I didn’t want to be there. No one’s ever done that for me before so I guess you could say that I didn’t really know how to handle it.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll make sure to keep it quiet for next year.” 

Castiel smiled and leaned into Balthazar, wrapping his arm around his waist, getting comfortable as Balthazar covered them with the blanket. 

_Next year._

Castiel liked the sound of that. Another year—with Balthazar.

—————————————

When Castiel let go of the memory, he was crying. 

_Another year gone._

He pulled his slacks up at his thighs before he crouched in front of the slate headstone, kissing his hand, and then placing it at the top. He didn’t even stop the tears anymore, they poured over the edge like a dam breaking free. 

“I miss you. So much.” He sniffled. “God, you don’t even know. Dean’s been a good distraction, I’ll give you that, but he’s more than that now. More than I ever thought he could be and I feel _so_ guilty, Balthazar, I do.”

His knees were beginning to ache so he stood up and stretched his legs out.

“I don’t want to say goodbye to you. I don’t think I ever could.” He sighed and dropped his shoulders. He pulled out the pins and the rings and held them in one hand. 

He didn’t really know why he brought them. He’s never brought them with him. A part of him felt that it was time to let go. He had be hanging onto him for the last three years, unable to find someone else until he met Dean. But he didn’t know what he was going to do with them. He thought about digging a small hole and burying them in front of the headstone. What he _really_ wanted to do was plant flowers in the spring, but never got around to doing it, which was something he regretted. 

He sighed and put the pins and rings back in his pockets for another time. He knew he needed to let go but not today. He still wasn’t ready; didn’t know when he would be.

—————————————

The rest of summer breezed by and it got easier for Castiel after Balthazar’s birthday. Dean didn’t press much for any details, being caring and understanding. Since Castiel had no work for the two months he was off, he was free 99% of the time, and when he _was_ busy, it was usually because he was with Dean. 

They had created a happy routine that started the instant Dean was off shift for a few days. It was a be-in-each-other’s-arms-now-until-you-leave routine, and they religiously abided by it. Whether it was at Dean’s or Castiel’s, it didn’t matter. When Dean was at work, they kept texting to a minimum, but every once and a while Dean would send Castiel a picture of him in his uniform, which he knew made Castiel squirm. One night, after Dean’s long day shift, Dean sent him a picture of him sitting at home in his uniform, cock out in his hand, and his bottom lip bit between his teeth. That led to a phone call that had them both stroking themselves through their orgasms. 

They kept Friday nights for dates, and sometimes they would carry on through the weekend if Dean wasn’t working. They kept the dates cliché, dinner, movies, long walks on the beach (if they had one, but it was just the river). They made the diving rocks their sacred place, and spent a lot of their free time outside by the river, in the water, in each other’s arms. 

It was the happiest Castiel had ever felt in a long time.

 

As the beginning of the school year was nearing, it was making Castiel nervous. Balthazar’s death was never easy for Castiel to relive every year, and this year he had Dean—a cop, like Balthazar. It made him into a wreck to think about losing Dean the same way he lost Balthazar, and he tried not to let it show, but he could tell that Dean was getting antsy around him. Castiel blamed it on the stress of the new year approaching, and for a while that worked. 

They had been officially dating nearly three months. He told Dean practically everything. Everything except things regarding Balthazar. He didn’t know why he couldn’t talk about him—guilt, maybe. He knew it was foolish to feel guilty dating someone else, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his dead husband (read: gone, not around—he knew it didn't make sense). 

Castiel was grateful that the school year didn’t start until after the long weekend, so he had some recovery time. When September 4th arrived, Castiel was a mess. He overslept, didn’t eat, and when Dean arrived at his place at the end of his shift (which Castiel completely forgot was today), he gently approached Castiel and caressed his arms, trying to pull him in for a hug, but Castiel pulled away. 

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked him. 

Castiel’s eyes were puffy from crying and his nose was stuffed up. He carried around a box of tissues as he attempted to clean up the place a little. He never let it get this messy, except on this day, each year. Dean followed him around, minding Castiel's space. 

“Not really,” Castiel replied. 

“Was it something I did?” The pain in Dean's voice made Castiel wince. 

“No.” Castiel picked up a few blankets off the floor in the living room and placed them on the couch. 

“Okay, then what is it? Cas, baby, you gotta tell me what’s going on. I can’t make you feel better if I don’t know what’s making you so upset.”

“ _I_ don’t actually have to tell you anything, and you can just live with that,” he snapped back. His eyes went wide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so—”

“Upset? Cas, please," Dean was sincere. "I want to know what’s making you so sad. I can tell it’s been making you upset for the past couple weeks. And I know it isn’t about work.” 

Dean took his hand and guided them to the couch where he sat Castiel in his lap, brushing his hair back and pressing their foreheads together. He moved up and kissed Castiel’s forehead, lips lingering a while, as Castiel started to cry again. 

“Please, baby. What wrong?” Dean asked again, slowly rubbing his arm. 

Castiel sighed, sniffling. He grabbed a tissue to wipe his nose, and another for his eyes. Still in Dean’s lap, he sat up a bit, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. 

“I haven’t told you anything about him,” Castiel explained.

“About who?”

“My husband.”

Dean froze. 

“Your w—what?"

Castiel turned up to face Dean. 

“Don't worry. He's dead,” he said bluntly, leaning his head into the crook of Dean's neck. 

Dean pulled back. 

“Hold on, what?” He lifted Castiel's chin up with his hand. “Cas, look at me.”

When Cas found his green eyes, he softened his expression. 

“I'm sorry,” he sighed. “Today has been especially hard on me. He died today. Three years ago.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me about him, Cas?” Dean dropped his hand and placed it on Castiel's outer thigh, rubbing it gently. 

Castiel shrugged, looking down. “I didn't think it would serve as any purpose for you to know.”

“But,” Dean started, pausing briefly, “don't you think...it would have been better for me to know? I mean—I can help you feel better about it. At least I can try.” 

“I didn't want to burden you with my problems,” Castiel said simply. 

Dean was silent for a moment. 

“I know what it's like to lose someone, Cas,” he said softly. Of course, his parents. Castiel completely forgot. He looked up at Dean. “I know what it feels like, every year, that one day, it hits you like a train—I get it,” he sighed. “But you can't expect me to ignore your pain, Cas. I've been seeing it for a while. I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. If you want to talk about it, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you.” 

Castiel tucked his head back into Dean's neck, and Dean held him tighter. Bringing a hand up to stroke the back of Castiel's head, Dean threaded his fingers softly through his hair. Dean leaned himself over and grabbed one of the blankets from beside them and threw it over Castiel, wrapping him inside it and returned his hand back to his hair. 

—————————————

When Castiel woke the next morning he was slightly confused. He didn't remember going to bed last night but he woke up wrapped in Dean's arms in his bedroom. His slight stirring brought Dean to consciousness and Dean stretched his legs and hooked one over Castiel's hips. 

“Morning,” Dean grunted, burying his face in the crook of Castiel’s shoulders, and pulled Castiel in by his waist. 

“Morning,” Castiel said solemnly. He rubbed his eyes and sighed. 

“How are you feeling?” Dean softly asked. He pressed his lips at the nape of Castiel’s neck and kissed him. 

“I don’t know. Fine, I guess.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really.” 

Dean sighed. 

“Okay. Well, whenever you do, I’ll be here to listen.”

Castiel just let the conversation end there. He shrugged out of Dean’s hold and got out of bed.

“Where're you going?” Dean asked. 

“Out for a run. I need to clear my head.” 

He stepped into his closet and changed into shorts and a tee shirt. He tried not to look at Dean—just by seeing his expression from his peripherals was guilting enough to him. 

“I’ll be back in an hour.” 

 

It was raining when Castiel stepped outside. He didn't really like running in the rain; he was prone to slipping on dry land, let alone wet and muddy. He kept his pace even, not too fast, not too slow. He had no destination in mind, but he knew he didn’t want to see Balthazar. He wasn’t upset with Dean. He was hollow. Empty, useless, damned. He thought he could pull through all of this pain. It was bad enough he let Dean notice. 

He ran until his chest hurt and his legs began to ache. He stopped to take a break, shirt soaked through and clinging to his chest. Water dripped from his hair and into his eyes. He wiped his face with his hands, but what good that did since it was still raining. He turned around and made his way back home. 

 

When he walked through the front door, a sweet sugary smell wafted through and he was greeted by Dean in the kitchen making _banana pancakes_. Dean’s face lit up when he saw him, whistling when he noticed how drenched Castiel was. He walked up to Castiel after taking the last pancake out of the pan, and put the spatula down on the counter. 

“You’re wet,” he said.

“Thank you, I was unaware,” Castiel said sarcastically. Dean chuckled. 

Dean stepped in closer and skirted his hands beneath Castiel’s shirt. Castiel shivered—and it wasn’t because he was cold. He lifted his shirt up and Castiel brought his arms up to help remove it. 

“Better get you out of these clothes before you get sick.” Dean threw the shirt on the floor and it landed with a splat. 

“Yes—uhm, that seems like a…good idea,” Castiel nodded, eyes lost, and trying to speak. He was partially distracted with Dean slowly untying the lace of his shorts. Dean placed his hands underneath the band and moved them over Castiel's hips to cup his bare ass. Castiel caught his breath when Dean grabbed him firmly and squeezed. Dean hooked his thumbs over the band and pushed Castiel’s shorts down, boxers included, letting them fall to his ankles. 

He leaned in and Castiel could feel Dean’s hot breath against his ear and shuddered again.

“I need you in the bedroom,” Dean whispered. “ _Now_.”

Castiel swallowed. He nodded, his half-hard cock twitching up. Dean grabbed his hand and led him towards the bedroom. The pancakes could wait. 

He let Dean push him up against the wall of the hallway, and groaned when he could feel Dean’s erection pressing up against his thigh. Castiel was naked and Dean had _far_ too many layers on. He tried to unbuckle Dean’s belt but Dean pulled away, grabbing at Castiel’s hands and pinning them to the wall. 

Castiel grunted as he tried to get loose. 

“Don’t fight it,” Dean said quietly. “I need you to let go, Cas. Let go for me. _Let me take care of you_.” 

Castiel whimpered when Dean pressed into him again, kissing him hard. Their hands intertwined, still held against the wall. Dean’s lips found Castiel’s tongue and he sucked on it, making Castiel groan. Castiel’s erection throbbed freely, untouched and it was driving him mental. 

When Dean pulled back, Castiel tried to follow his lips, but was only saddened by the loss. 

“What do you want?” Dean asked him. He already knew his answer. 

“You,” Castiel huffed. “I want you.”

Dean grazed a hand across Castiel’s cock, thumbing over the head and delicately spreading around the precome. Castiel shuddered and shook out a breath, eyes closing. He licked his lips, biting at his bottom lip. When Dean spoke, he was impossibly close to Castiel’s lips, hot breath pooling over his mouth. It smelled like vanilla and bananas, swirling around Castiel’s senses.

“And how do you want me?” 

Castiel stopped breathing. He swallowed and opened his eyes. 

“I want you to fuck me,” he whispered against Dean’s lips. 

Dean pressed their open mouths together for one more heated kiss, and then led Castiel’s naked body to the bedroom.

 

Castiel rarely bottomed—even when he and Balthazar were together. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, no. He enjoyed it immensely, but he much preferred to be in control. And letting Dean take control, meant the opposite, and that frightened Castiel—to his core. But he trusted Dean. He knew he was in good hands—literally. 

Dean brought Castiel to the bed where he let him sit down. Dean then took of his clothes—too quickly in Castiel’s opinion—and motioned Castiel to lay down. Castiel obliged and moved himself back, leaning on his elbows. Dean crawled his way up and straddled Castiel’s hips. 

_It’s been a long time since I bottomed_ , he wanted to say, lightly, but he couldn’t find the words. Dean stole his breath as he kissed him, hands roaming all over his body, but never touching his aching cock. Castiel growled, needy, and selfish. He tried to grab for Dean, in hopes of turning him over, his dominance taking possession. But Dean was quicker. 

Underneath the pillows, Dean pulled out two pairs of handcuffs. He locked one of each on Castiel’s wrists and hooked them to the bed frame. Castiel’s eyes went wide and then dark. He had his weaknesses—and handcuffs were one of them. 

“I said, _let me take care of you_ ,” Dean insisted. 

“I need you,” Castiel breathed. “ _Now_.” 

Dean nodded and grabbed the lube and a condom. 

Castiel’s chest rose and sank quickly as he watched Dean lubricate his fingers. Dean shot him a look and worry streaked across his face.

“You good, Cas?” 

Castiel breathed in deeply and nodded. 

“I need words, baby. Gimme words.” 

Castiel grunted as he tried to formulate a coherent answer. 

“Yes or no, baby. That’s all I need.” 

A pause. “ _YES_.”

Dean pushed in a finger. 

_Oh. God._

Heat was already starting to build in Castiel’s stomach. He let out a shaky breathe as he shivered. He had to hold on, wait for Dean. His face contorted as Dean added a second finger.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Right there, right—ah. _Yes_.” Dean was hitting his prostate with perfect rhythm. 

His eyes rolled back as he closed them, lost in his bliss, his body humming with pleasure. The handcuffs clanked against the headboard and the sound sent another jolt to Castiel’s cock, which twitched in response. Dean added a third. Castiel squirmed as Dean stretched his hole, getting wider and wider. He was restless. 

“Dean,” he panted. “I need you. I need you right now.”

“I still need to prep you some more, Cas you gotta be patient.” 

“ _No_ ,” he growled. “ _I need you to fuck me right now, Dean_.”

Dean’s eyes went wide. He licked his lips and nodded. He removed his fingers and grabbed for the condom, tearing it open. He rolled it over his cock, and stroked it to get the feel of the rubber. Castiel shivered when he felt the head of Dean’s penis against his hole.

“Still okay?” Dean asked. 

“Dean, _please_ ,” he begged. 

Dean pushed inside and Castiel went wild. 

The heat pulsed inside of him as it rolled through his body, pooling in his stomach. It pinched and hurt, but it was a good hurt. He shuddered as Dean inched forward, nearly seated. 

“Fuck, Cas.” Dean dropped his head back. “You feel so _good_.”

“Dean,” Castiel mumbled. He was lost in euphoria; he felt full. He felt amazing. Dean felt amazing. 

Dean started to move back and forth slowly and Castiel shuddered a breath. Dean leaned forward and kissed Castiel’s lips gently, and slipped his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down and gaining a cry out from Castiel. Dean started moving faster, Castiel whimpering with every move. 

Castiel was already so close and Dean had barely started moving. 

“Come on, Cas. I got you. It’s okay,” Dean encouraged. “Let go. Come on. You can do it.”

He couldn’t contain himself any longer. His abdomen started to ache as his orgasm approached. Dean pumped into him harder, hitting his prostate which drove him over the edge. 

“ _Dean_.”

 

He never remembered it feeling this way with Balthazar. Maybe it was because they were both tops and constantly jostling for dominance. But with Dean it was different. He knew what Castiel needed. He made sure he was okay, that he was comfortable. Not that Balthazar didn’t make him comfortable, but Castiel didn’t realize there was a whole different experience to bottoming. Maybe it was the handcuffs. Maybe it was just _Dean_. His eyes snapped shut and his mouth opened wide as he screamed Dean’s name and came, feeling it shoot up his torso. He could feel Dean’s cock twitching inside of him as he came with him. 

Dean moaned against his neck, stilling as his orgasm ended. 

Castiel panted as he came down from his ecstasy.

Dean slowly pulled out and Castiel winced at the pain. He probably should have listened to Dean and taken the extra preparation and had a fourth finger—he’ll make sure to be more patient next time. _Next time_. Dean smiled at him and shifted his body down Castiel’s abdomen. Castiel could feel Dean’s tongue as it traced from the centre of his ribcage, lips sucking and kissing. He felt him lick over his stomach, tongue pressing into his navel, and down to his softening cock. When Castiel came to his senses, he realized Dean was cleaning up his mess. 

_Oh_. That was nice. 

“Fuck Dean, you’re so hot,’ Castiel breathed, looking down at him.

“So are you,” he replied. “Is it selfish of me to say that I love you tied up like this?”

“You love _seeing_ me tied up like this.”

“Whatever— _smart ass_.” Dean grabbed the keys from beneath the pillows where the handcuffs were hiding—clever plan, Castiel thought. Out for a run, slip them under, seduce, it was perfect. 

Castiel smirked while Dean removed the handcuffs. He sat up, his ass tender and sore. Dean rubbed Castiel’s cheek with his thumb and kissed his forehead. 

“You were amazing, Cas. I want you to know that.”

“Thank you, Dean. For everything.” Castiel pressed into Dean and Dean kissed him tenderly, holding Castiel’s face in his hands.

“Shower?” Dean asked when they parted, rolling the condom off.

“I’ll meet you in there,” he replied, rubbing his wrists. “Make it hot.” 

“You got it babe.” Dean kissed him once more and winked while he stood up, walking into Castiel’s bathroom, and flicking the light on. 

Castiel leaned his back against his headboard and smiled to himself. He pulled his knees up to his chest slowly—minding the pain—and sat there for a few moments, thinking about how good Dean made him feel. How _at home_ and _right_ it felt to him. He wanted Dean to be there. He wanted to wake up next to him every morning and fall asleep by his side every night. Just thinking about it made Castiel warm inside. He heard the shower turn on and Dean pulling the curtain across the bar. He needed to get in that shower. 

It could fit two, after all.


	11. Domesticated Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER I'M UPLOADING FOR THE NIGHT DON'T HATE ME.
> 
> It's currently raining outside w/thunder and lighting and I JUST HAVE SO MANY FEELS.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OkyrIRyrRdY  
> Just because I like to torture myself :)

Everything after that night just seemed to make sense to Castiel—being with Dean made sense. It felt right. He was the happiest when he was with him, and he found himself thinking more and more of a future together (and finally being okay with it—not guilty like before). 

He made his peace with Balthazar, visiting him roughly once a month, or whenever he felt that he needed to talk to him. There was a weight that was lifted off of his shoulders the instant he let it fly away and Castiel couldn’t believe how much he was bottling inside until it tipped and poured over.

With his work routine, it made time go by quickly. Autumn was approaching fast, and Castiel forgot to mention that his birthday was coming up. He was bustling about the kitchen one Saturday morning in late September, while Dean was busy reading reports on his laptop at the dining room table, sipping coffee. Castiel busied himself with breakfast. 

“Cas,” Dean called to him. 

Castiel turned his head as he stirred the pan of scrambled eggs. “Yeah?”

“What do you want for your birthday?”

Castiel put the spatula down and walked over to the table, leaning on the corner of the wall. “I don’t recall telling you when my birthday was.”

“That’s not answering the question.” Dean tried to hide the smile behind his coffee mug. 

“Who told you?”

“Gabe just texted me this.” Dean turned his phone around in his hand and handed it to Castiel.

Castiel took it and glanced down. 

**Gabriel Novak** : Just a heads up that Castiel’s birthday is coming up soon.   
The 16th of October (if he hasn’t already told you). Don’t throw him a big party—he’s not a huge fan of them. Let me know if you need anything.   
(9:18 AM)

“Hmm,” was all Castiel said, passing Dean his phone back and turning towards the kitchen to tend to the eggs. 

“So?” Dean asked. 

“What?”

He looked back just in time to see Dean roll his eyes. “What do you want for your _birthday? _”__

__“Nothing. You don’t need to get me anything.” Castiel put the eggs on two plates and added some green onions on top along with freshly chopped tomatoes and grated cheese. He placed avocado slices beside and buttered some toast. He brought the plates and a pair of utensils to the dining table and sat next to Dean._ _

__“Cas.”_ _

__“Seriously, Dean,” Castiel insisted. “I don’t need anything. I have everything I want and need right now.” He smiled at Dean through a bite of toast._ _

__Dean let out a sigh and pushed his laptop aside to take in his breakfast._ _

__“I’ll think of something,” he mumbled, taking a bite of his scrambled eggs._ _

__They were silent for a few moments, eating their breakfast and drinking their coffee. Out of nowhere Castiel decided now was the time to ask. He’d been pondering about asking Dean to move in with him for a while, and felt that he needed to voice his thoughts._ _

__“So,” he started, taking a sip of his coffee. Dean looked up at him as he waited for Castiel to continue. “I have been thinking.”_ _

__“Oh yeah? About what?” Dean bit into his toast._ _

__“How do you feel about moving in with me?”_ _

__Dean nearly choked on his bite, and coughed around chews, finally able to swallow and took a swig of his coffee to help wash it all down._ _

__“What?” he finally spurted out. “Move in with you?” He put his cup down._ _

__“If it’s something you would want,” Castiel replied, nervously. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked Dean right when he took a bite._ _

__Dean looked sideways for a few moments as he thought. He smiled to himself and it grew bigger, eyes crinkling at their corners, lighting up. He leaned over the table and grabbed the back of Castiel’s neck, smashing their mouths together; the taste of coffee with hints of onion merging together in a flash. Castiel stifled back a moan when Dean pushed his tongue through._ _

__They were both breathless when they parted._ _

__“Dean?”_ _

__“Yes,” Dean blurted out. “I wanna move in with you.”_ _

__Castiel spread a smile across his face._ _

__“Really?” he asked, not quite believing him. “Are you sure?”_ _

__“ _Hell yes_ ,” Dean pulled him in for another breathtaking kiss, standing up and pulling Castiel along with him. _ _

__Their plates left forgotten as they bustled to the bedroom, clothes landing in a trail._ _

__—————————————_ _

__The rest of September flew into October and it was now a few days before Castiel’s birthday. There was a strange hum that loomed in the air, and Castiel could tell that Dean was up to something. It felt oddly familiar, and Castiel tried not to dwell on it._ _

__They hadn’t moved any of Dean’s things in yet, because Dean wanted to wait until his lease was up at the end of October before they moved him in. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t at Castiel’s nearly every night (he was). They had grown accustom to their new routine—same as before, but now it was _every_ night instead of whenever Dean was off shift, and Castiel quickly accommodated Dean into his daily life with ease. _ _

__Castiel came home from work Thursday evening, and saw Dean working at the table (on what, he wasn’t sure). Dean shut his laptop quickly before Castiel approached him—now with caution._ _

__“Everything okay?” he asked as he placed his hands on Dean’s shoulders, giving them a gentle massage. Dean leaned his head back against Castiel’s chest and closed his eyes._ _

__“Mhmm…” Dean moaned as Castiel applied more pressure between his shoulder blades, digging at the knot that was hiding beneath. “That feels good, baby.”_ _

__Castiel worked his fingers in deeper, gaining all sorts of sounds from Dean as he moved his hands down the muscles of Dean’s back. Dean leaned forward to give Castiel more room._ _

__“So,” Castiel tried to start while Dean was lost in bliss, “what were you looking up on your computer?”_ _

__“Hmm? Oh uh, nothing.”_ _

__“Nothing you wanted me to see then, I assume?”_ _

__“Heh, nope. Nothing.” Dean shot him a cheeky smile. _Dammit_. “Thought you could fool me, huh?”_ _

__“Yes, well.” Castiel dropped his hands. “I thought I could at least try.”_ _

__“Uh huh. Nice try.” He stood up and rubbed the back of his neck that was likely cricked from leaning forward. He stood up and walked over to Castiel, wrapping him in his arms._ _

__“I can’t breathe, Dean,” Castiel muffled when Dean gave him a good squeeze._ _

__“Sorry.” Dean let him go and they both smiled. He leaned in and kissed Castiel softly. “Don’t worry about what I was looking at. It was nothing.”_ _

__Like _that_ made Castiel feel better. _ _

__“Uhm, okay? May I ask what it was about though? It doesn’t make me feel good knowing that you’re hiding something from me, even if you say it was nothing.”_ _

__Dean sighed. “It was for your birthday. But that’s _all_ I’m saying.” _ _

__Castiel groaned. “Dean, I told you I don’t want anything for my birthday.”_ _

__“Baby, _please_ don’t worry about it. I want to do this for you. Okay?” Dean rubbed a hand down Castiel’s arm and squeezed his bicep gently. _ _

__Castiel looked away from Dean’s eyes._ _

__“Fine. I suppose.”_ _

__Dean smiled gently and kissed Castiel’s cheek. He turned and walked into the kitchen._ _

__“You won’t regret it.” He turned on the oven. “So. Pizza?”_ _

__—————————————_ _

__Castiel’s birthday landed on the following Saturday and he was woken by kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, drifting across his eyelids, down his jawline and his neck. He shuddered when Dean slipped a hand beneath his boxers and stroked him gently until he was solid._ _

__“ _Dean_.” He shook when Dean squeezed at the tip, licking his tongue out to graze Castiel’s bottom lip. _ _

__“Happy birthday, baby,” Dean whispered, pressing his lips to Castiel’s, who opened his mouth in return._ _

__“Mmm.”_ _

__“Want anything…special?” Dean twisted his hand perfectly, making Castiel buck his hips up._ _

__“Hmm? _Right…there, ah—yessss_.” His eyes were still closed, and squinted further shut when Dean hit the sweet spot beneath the head of his penis. Castiel bit into his bottom lip as Dean stroked him in all the right places. He could feel Dean ghosting his lips across his stubble and it made him quiver. Dean licked a spot on his throat before he bit into it, making Castiel cry out, eyes shut tight and body vibrating. When he opened his eyes, he found Dean dressed in his uniform. Confusion struck across his face._ _

__“You have to work today? I thought you said you had the day off?” Castiel tried not to sound upset in any way, but it was no good—Dean _did_ say he made sure to have the whole day off. _ _

__Dean stood up off the bed and grabbed his handcuffs off of his belt._ _

__“Yeah. I got _one_ job today.” Castiel eyed up the handcuffs as Dean handcuffed one of his hands, then feeding it through the headboard and then around Castiel’s other hand, so that both of his hands were above his head. “And that’s to please the _fuck_ out of my boyfriend on his birthday. Will that be alright?”_ _

__Dean was hovering above him now, and Castiel was having a hard time breathing. He nodded furiously._ _

__“Yes. Yes it is. Now kiss me before I try to break out of this headboard.”_ _

__Dean leaned in slowly, floating above Castiel’s lips, who tried to lean forward, but was restrained by the handcuffs and couldn’t close the gap between them. He whimpered softly. Dean only curved up the corner of his mouth._ _

__“Make me,” he whispered. Castiel’s eyes went wide and his mouth was slack. His dick twitched and he tried to squirm his way out of the handcuffs. Dean tutted and shook his head. “Ah ah, no. Do you want your birthday present?”_ _

__Dean pointed to himself. Castiel gave in and nodded._ _

__“Please, Dean.”_ _

__

__He started with his tie. _Dean really had to dress in his full attire, didn’t he? Just to torture me_ , Castiel thought as Dean slowly let loose the knot, threading his fingers through and pulling swiftly. _ _

__“If you’re bad, I’m using this to cover your mouth,” Dean warned. Oh how Castiel wanted him to._ _

__“And what would qualify as _bad_?” _ _

__“I’ll be the judge of that,” Dean said gruffly, throwing the tie on the bed beside Castiel. He could feel Dean’s eyes on him as his own eyes lingered on the tie. He licked his lips and looked back up at Dean undoing the straps of his kevlar vest. The sound of the velcro ripping apart sent shivers down Castiel’s spine. Dean took his time, making sure the straps came off perfectly. Dean threw it to the floor and it landed with a heavy thud. He started unbuttoning his tan coloured shirt, each button undone with absolute precision. When he opened the shirt, Castiel groaned when he saw there was still _another_ shirt beneath it. _ _

__“Gotta be patient, Cas. Don’t you want to see what I’ve got underneath my clothes?” Dean teased._ _

__“It would be nicer if you hurried the fuck up,” Castiel tried to sound assertive, but ended up sounding desperate. Dean chuckled._ _

__“Watch that pretty little mouth of yours, baby. Wouldn't want to have to cover it up now would we?"_ _

__Castiel let out of huff of breath, his cock unbelievably hard and aching beneath his boxers.  
Dean removed his shirt, bringing it slowly over his shoulders and down his arms. He had a regular tee shirt beneath that he pulled up, finally revealing his tanned, muscled torso. Castiel hummed with his approval. When Dean pulled it over his head, his hair becoming tousled by the shirt and Castiel grinned at him. He glanced down and saw Dean’s erection straining against his slacks. He swallowed and sucked in a shallow breath when Dean began to remove the items off of his belt. _ _

__Dean’s belt only had his baton, a flashlight, handcuffs (currently on Castiel), pepper spray, and the holster for his gun. His gun and radio were left at the station. Dean took out the baton and smirked when Castiel’s eyes went wide. He removed the flashlight and set it on the bedside table, along with the pepper spray. He unhooked the belt and removed it from his hips. It thudded when it hit the floor and Dean pushed it aside with his foot._ _

__At last, his pants. Dean undid the button and slowly pulled down the zipper. That sound had never sounded so satisfying to Castiel. Dean pushed his pants down, turning to show off his ass to Castiel, still wrapped in his tight fitting boxer-briefs. When the pants hit the floor, Castiel shuddered, knowing how close he was to seeing Dean completely naked._ _

__Dean toyed with his boxer-briefs, running his fingers beneath the band and palming his erection over the fabric. Castiel’s mouth dropped when Dean started to stroke himself over the material, moaning as he pleasured himself. Castiel started to whine. Dean quirked up a smile and slowly (tauntingly) removed his boxers, _finally_ exposing his cock to Castiel. _ _

__Dean mounted himself onto the bed and straddled Castiel’s hips, well aware that Castiel still had his boxers on, with a wet spot where his cock was leaking precome. Dean leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of Castiel’s shoulders and kissed Castiel’s neck with an open mouth._ _

__“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel breathed._ _

__Dean finally kissed Castiel’s lips passionately, making him moan. Castiel began to rut his hips up into Dean’s crotch, and Dean pulled back._ _

__“Dean _please_ ,” Castiel begged._ _

__Dean trailed kisses back down Castiel’s neck, over his chest, down his torso, and then hovered over his cock. He licked his tongue out over the wet spot on Castiel’s boxers and sucked at the head over the fabric. He ran his hands up Castiel’s sides, making him shudder as he toyed with his dick. When he brought his hands back down, he pulled Castiel’s boxers off and threw them off somewhere in Castiel’s room._ _

__Dean began his work._ _

__He swallowed Castiel down in one go, lips firm and cheeks hallowed. The sight of him alone could make Castiel come, but he didn't. He sucked in a breath when Dean flicked his tongue over the slit of his cock. He pulled off, only for a second, to suck on his own fingers, slicking them up and teasing Castiel’s hole._ _

__“ _Fuck_ Dean,” Castiel shuddered. _ _

__Dean swallowed him down again, pushing in his index finger. All Castiel could see was white; pure pleasure and bliss as Dean fingered him slowly, and sucked him hard. The low burn was already starting in Castiel’s stomach, his breathing hitched._ _

__“Dean, you need to stop. If you don't I’ll come right now,” Castiel panted._ _

__Dean added his middle finger, Castiel squeezing tight around him._ _

__Castiel moaned and cried out, holding off his orgasm. He rolled his hips down and tried to fuck himself on Dean’s fingers. Dean hummed when Castiel moved upwards into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat._ _

__It was almost too much. Dean’s mouth was something a god must have created because _fuck_ was he ever holy with it. His fingers, strong and sturdy, and hitting Castiel’s prostate when he fucked down onto them, made Castiel quiver as his orgasm approached. _ _

__“Dean…I’m gonna come. I’m so close. S-so close.”_ _

__His arms were aching but it added to the pleasure. His wrists would likely bruise, but he didn't care. Dean took his free hand and gripped it to the base of Castiel's cock, holding off his orgasm. He added a third finger and stretched Castiel open, scissoring his fingers. Castiel yelled out when Dean stroked over his prostate, still gripping his cock. Dean trailed kisses over the length of his shaft._ _

__When he was stretched enough, Dean took his fingers out and grabbed the bottle of lube. He was about to open a condom when Castiel stopped him._ _

__“No,” he said. Dean looked up, cock twitching. “Bare. I want you bare.”_ _

__Dean’s eyes darkened and he quickly opened the bottle, stroking himself as he slicked his cock up. He lined himself up between Castiel’s legs._ _

__“You sure?”_ _

__“Yes, Dean. I need to feel you. Please.”_ _

__Heat flared when Dean finally pushed through. He was slow and gentle; Castiel could feel every inch as Dean reached his prostate. Both Castiel and Dean were sheen with sweat, the room hot. Dean began to move slowly._ _

__“Dean, I’m not going to last. I’m so close,” Castiel warned._ _

__“Don’t worry baby. I got you. Just come when you’re ready. I'm not far behind.”_ _

__And with that, Dean pulled out and thrusted in deep, Castiel shouting out. With Dean starting to move quickly, it didn't take long for Castiel’s orgasm to start rebuilding again. It rolled through his stomach, his spine, through to the base of his cock. He arched his back and Dean hit him hard in his prostate, sending him over the edge, white crashing around his senses like drowning in an ocean of pure bliss. He shouted Dean’s name as he came over his abdomen, clenching tightly around Dean’s cock. Castiel was hardly through his orgasm when Dean came with a cry, filling Castiel full with his warmth._ _

__“ _Cas!_ ” he shouted. He stilled as he pumped his last shot of come and gently lowered himself on top of Castiel, wrapping his arms around him. He slowly inched out, kissing Castiel’s neck. He unlocked the handcuffs and worked his way back down Castiel’s body. _ _

__Castiel sighed happily when Dean started to lick him clean. Dean really liked doing that. And Castiel really liked it when he did. He rubbed his wrists before carding his fingers through Dean’s hair as he lapped up his come. When Dean returned his lips to Castiel’s, Castiel hummed as he kissed his boyfriend, tasting himself on his tongue._ _

__“Happy birthday, baby,” Dean said through kisses. He left the bed briefly to grab a warm damp cloth to clean up Castiel. “Shall we shower?”_ _

__“Yes. I think that would be nice,” Castiel sighed. When Dean was done, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and pulled him back into bed._ _

__“But after. I want to stay like this for a while.”_ _

__Dean nodded against his neck, snuggling into Castiel._ _

__“I like that plan.”_ _

__This was by far the best wake up Castiel had ever had. And the best birthday morning._ _

__

__Castiel woke about an later, Dean stirred himself awake and rubbed his eyes._ _

__“How ‘bout that shower?” he asked._ _

__Castiel smiled and nodded. He got up slowly and followed Dean to the bathroom where he started the shower, steam billowing over the curtain. They both stepped into the shower and got under the water. Dean grabbed the body wash and squeezed some into his palm. He lathered up his hands and rubbed them over Castiel’s body, washing him gently. Castiel stepped under the water and rinsed himself off. He sighed when Dean wrapped his arms around him from behind, leaning his head back into the crook of his neck. Dean hummed a song and they swayed slowly, their naked bodies flush as the water beat down on them. Dean pressed his lips the side of Castiel’s head and turned him around. He kissed Castiel softly and rubbed his thumb across his cheek._ _

__“So,” he said casually, turning to grab his toothbrush from the ledge and spreading some toothpaste across the bristles. “I invited a couple people over for supper tonight to celebrate your birthday.”_ _

__Castiel stared at him._ _

__“Don’t worry,” Dean continued through brushing, “I took Gabe's advice—“ spit, “—I’m not throwing you a huge party. But Gabe is bringing your _actual_ birthday present, so we at least need him to come.”_ _

__Castiel blinked. “What?”_ _

__“Don’t worry, it’s nothing horrendous. It’s something you’ve wanted for a while, actually. So I’m hoping you’ll like it.”_ _

__“Okay…so who all did you invite?” Castiel asked with caution._ _

__“Just Gabe, Jo, Charlie, Ellen, Bobby, and Sam. My family and…yours." Dean paused. “I thought it would be nice, you know? Just the people we care about the most. I know I have more people coming here that I know on a personal level, but since you work with Jo and Bobby, I feel like it wouldn’t be so bad. I can still call it off though, if it’s something you wouldn't want to have.”_ _

__Castiel thought for a moment. The water was starting to run cold so he reached forward and turned it off, opening the curtain, and grabbed the towels hanging beside. He handed one to Dean and began to dry himself off._ _

__The last time he had a birthday party was five years ago, and it was the most awkward thing of his life. Granted, it was a surprise and he was unaware of how to react, but most of the people who were there, Castiel hardly knew. Some familiar faces, but most were friend's of Balthazar's. He smiled and Dean's consideration for the very few amount of people he invited._ _

__When he looked up at Dean there was anxiety stricken on his face. He gave him a soft smile and saw it melt away._ _

__“I think it would be very nice having them over, Dean. Thank you.” He grabbed Dean’s hand and threaded their fingers together, leading them out of the bathroom._ _

__

__The rest of the day was perfect. Dean made breakfast for Castiel, not letting him step foot in the kitchen because it was a “birthday-boy free zone” so Castiel was resorted to sitting on the couch while the sweet scent of crepes filled the air. Dean told Castiel that he was hoping to make banana pancakes, but as it wasn't raining, he couldn't possibly break tradition._ _

___Tradition_._ _

__Something that Castiel longed to have with Dean, and it warmed his heart to know that they already had something as silly as banana pancakes part of a tradition. He waited on the couch patiently while Dean bustled about the kitchen._ _

__When the crepes were ready, Dean brought them dressed with fresh strawberries and bananas, maple syrup, whipped cream, and icing sugar. He set them on the coffee table and sat beside Castiel, handing him a fork and butter knife._ _

__“Thank you,” Castiel said, taking the utensils._ _

__The crepes melted in his mouth at the first bite. Maybe it was the syrup. Maybe it was the cream. Pure ecstasy. He hummed in his pleasure as he took another forkful. Dean smiled brightly when he looked at him._ _

__“This is amazing, Dean. Thank you,” Castiel praised._ _

__Dean rubbed a hand on Castiel's knee and waved off the compliment._ _

__“It’s nothing, really. Just some flour and milk, and a few other things. Nothing special.”_ _

__“Regardless of what you think the combinations of these ingredients will produce, it varies with the person tasting it. And I think it’s more than special. It's perfect.”_ _

__Dean blushed as he took another bite._ _

__“Alright, alright. Eat your breakfast,” he mused._ _

__

__Ellen and Bobby were the first to show up. Promptly, at 5:30 PM because that’s when Dean said. Ellen brought a pie, and Bobby brought a slow cooker filled with something that smelled amazing. Jo and Charlie came next, bringing a casserole dish (potatoes) and a vegetable tray. Dean made a fresh Greek salad and Castiel baked a fresh loaf of garlic bread. Sam was next to arrive with Sadie, and a couple bottles of wine. Sadie sniffed around the dining table for someone to give her food and Castiel noticed Dean slip her a piece of roast from the slow cooker. Gabriel was the last to arrive, and everyone was sitting at the table, filling their plates when he opened the front door._ _

__“Sorry I’m late!” he called as he stepped inside. He was carrying a small box and placed it on the island before taking off his jacket._ _

__“Pop a squat, Gabe,” Dean beckoned him._ _

__Gabriel walked over and sat at the end of the table. Dean handed him a plate and he began to dish up. When everyone had food on their plates, Dean poured the wine. He stayed standing when all the glasses were filled._ _

__“To Cas,” he toasted. Castiel looked up at him and beamed._ _

__Everyone responded in unison and clinked their glasses in cheers._ _

__“Let’s eat!” Dean boomed. He sat down next to Castiel and rubbed a hand along his thigh. Castiel leaned in and kissed him on the cheek._ _

__“Thank you, Dean,” he whispered._ _

__“Happy birthday,” Dean said softly, turning to give him a gentle kiss on his lips and a wink as the chatter began and everyone started to eat._ _

__Butterflies tried to escape._ _

__

__The food was magnificent. The roast Bobby made was juicy and tender; the casserole that the girls brought was full of flavour and cooked to perfection; Ellen's pie was to die for. When the table was cleared, Gabriel brought over the box and placed it in front of Castiel. It was a small cake with _Happy 30th Birthday, Cas!_ written over it in cursive script. _ _

__“I think I'm too full to eat this!” Castiel exclaimed, holding a hand over his stomach. Everybody laughed and nodded in agreement._ _

__“Ah, come on Cassie! Indulge a little!” Gabriel barked._ _

__Dean came around and put some candles around the edges of the round cake._ _

__“I don’t have thirty candles but I’m sure these will work,” Dean said as he lit them. There were five candles spaced around the letters. “Remember, whatever is left lit, means you got a boyfriend.”_ _

__“I think we can all agree that that’s true,” Castiel joked. Dean's eyes shone bright, emeralds dancing in the warm golden light._ _

__He blew out the candles, (purposefully leaving one lit just to make everyone laugh, and then he blew that one out too) and Gabriel came over with a stack of dessert plates and a knife. They each took a small piece and the remaining cake was put into the fridge._ _

__“There’s one more thing,” Gabriel announced. He stood up and put on his shoes. It was at that moment Castiel heard someone pulling up into he driveway. Castiel looked at Dean, who put his hand on top of his and squeezed it lightly._ _

__A few voices came from outside as Gabriel greeted the people and came back, holding something covered with a small blanket. Castiel heard the car pull away and Gabriel shut the door. Dean let go of Castiel’s hand and stood up to take the kennel from Gabriel, setting it on the island counter._ _

__“C’mere, babe,” he called to Castiel. He wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him in close, kissing his temple._ _

__“What is it?” Castiel asked._ _

__“Why don’t you open it and find out?” Dean said into his hair._ _

__Castiel looked at everyone sitting at the table, expectantly. He pulled back the blanket and sucked in an excited breath. His eyes went wide as he stared at the fattest calico cat he’d ever seen. He looked back at Dean, whose smile could light up the room._ _

__“Go on,” Dean encouraged. “You can pick her up. She’s heavier than hell but she’s super sweet. Here, let me—” Dean took his arm from Castiel's waist and grabbed the cat from the kennel, holding her with both arms. She must have weighed over twenty pounds. Her colours were primarily white, with brown and black patches. Her eyes were a pristine shade of blue and there was a small freckle that sat above her lip. She was beautiful. Dean handed her off to him and she laid calmly in his arms, purring softly._ _

__“She’s a rescue cat, believe it or not,” Dean told him. “She was found outside of town a couple months ago, no one would claim her. She ended up at the shelter just off Main Street and when I saw her I knew she was the one. Kept her at Sammy’s for a couple weeks while he was home and then got all the paperwork done the other day. She's officially ours.”_ _

__Castiel beamed at him. _Ours_. Dean continued. _ _

__“The shelter said that she’s extremely tame, and lazy, so I thought that would be perfect for the chickens, you know?”_ _

__“She’s perfect,” Castiel praised. “What's her name?”_ _

__“We don't know,” Dean replied. “There were no tags on her, no chip. So we have no idea what her name is. So I guess you get to name her!”_ _

__Castiel thought about it while he held her. He looked at her freckle and smiled._ _

__“Norma,” he said. Dean blinked._ _

__“Norma," Dean answered._ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__Dean chuckled. “Where did that come from?”_ _

__“Her freckle,” Castiel explained. “It’s like Marilyn Monroe’s, but everyone knows that wasn't her _real_ name. Norma Jean was her real name. Why do you ask?”_ _

__Dean petted the top of her head and smiled. “Nothing. Most people go for ‘Spot’ or something cliché. Norma is so…human.”_ _

__“Yes, well. It is a name nonetheless.”_ _

__“Norma it is.”_ _

__

__When everyone had left and it was just Castiel, Dean, and Norma, the house felt complete. It felt the most ‘homey’ (rather than just a house) than it ever had for Castiel, and he couldn't be happier. They were lying in bed together, the cat curled up at their feet, and Dean was absentmindedly rubbing his hand along the inner side of Castiel’s arm. Castiel had himself propped against his pillows, reading._ _

__“I hope you had fun tonight,” Dean said._ _

__“I did,” Castiel replied. “It was perfect.”_ _

__“That's good.” Dean brought his arm to trail across Castiel’s chest, and then pulled himself closer. He kissed Castiel’s cheek and nuzzled himself against his neck. He let out a breath that tickled down Castiel’s collarbone and he shivered in response. They laid like that for a while and Castiel thought he had fallen asleep when Dean broke the silence._ _

__“My lease is up next Friday.” His voice was slurred and Castiel smirked, knowing Dean was close to falling asleep. “I've already started—” yawn, “—packing—some things.”_ _

__Castiel turned his head and placed a kiss on top of Dean’s._ _

__“You can start bringing things over whenever you like. I’ll help you unpack.”_ _

__“Sounds like a plan.” Dean cuddled closer, wrapping a leg around Castiel’s, and sighed._ _

__Castiel put his book down on the bedside table and shut off his lamp. He hugged Dean closer and fell asleep smiling._ _

__

__Monday morning came too fast for Castiel’s liking and he was back to work. He kissed Dean goodbye as they both left the house; Dean had one more day off and he was going to use it to start hauling some of his things over._ _

__Castiel arrived at the school and watched as Dean drove passed towards his apartment. He was in a bright mood and nothing could bring him down. Gabriel arrived at the same time as him and walked with him down the hall to his classroom._ _

__“So how’s Norma?” Gabriel asked casually. Castiel smiled._ _

__“She’s good. Already she’s taken reign over most of the furniture.”_ _

__Gabriel chuckled. “Nice. You bring her to the chickens yet?”_ _

__Castiel barked out a laugh. “Yes. And she sat there and watched them from outside the pen, and then went and slept on the back porch. I think she's gonna be perfect with them.”_ _

__“That's good to hear,” Gabriel replied. Castiel nodded in agreement._ _

__Gabriel followed into Castiel’s classroom and sat on one of the desks while Castiel organized his own._ _

__“So I was talking with Dean on Saturday night after dinner,” Gabriel started, legs swinging back and forth._ _

__“And?” Castiel opened his top drawer to retrieve a pen. He took out some folders from his bag and placed them on top of his desk, then put his bag on the floor by the side of his desk._ _

__“He told me you asked him to move in with him.”_ _

__Castiel looked up at Gabriel and gave him a soft smile. He opened one of the folders and began sifting through it._ _

__“I did,” he replied._ _

__“That’s awesome, brother! When is he moving in?”_ _

__“This weekend. We’re slowly going to be bringing his things throughout the week. His lease ends on Friday so it works out perfectly.”_ _

__“That’s really great, Cassie. I’m happy for you.” He hopped down from the desk. Castiel blushed lightly and smiled._ _

__“Thanks, Gabriel. That means a lot.”_ _

__Gabriel walked over and clapped a hand on his shoulder._ _

__“So when’s the wedding? Huh? Let me know if you want me to be your best man, okay?” Gabriel turned around swiftly and walked to the door._ _

__Castiel laughed. “Shut up, Gabriel.”_ _

__“I mean it!” He gave Castiel a cheeky smile and a quick wave as he left the classroom._ _

__Castiel just smiled and shook his head._ _

__

__The rest of the day went by quickly and Castiel stopped by Dean’s apartment to see if he was there and needed help. He was, and was busy carrying boxes out to the Impala, stuffing them into the trunk and back seat._ _

__“Need some help?” he called when he stepped out of his car._ _

__“Yeah, sure! I got a couple boxes I can fit in Baby before she’s stuffed.”_ _

__Castiel walked around the Impala and up to Dean’s apartment where there were two medium sized boxes waiting by the door. He grabbed one and passed Dean along the way and set it outside of the Impala, unsure how Dean wanted to fit it._ _

__“You can set that one in the front passenger seat,” Dean told him. Castiel obeyed and placed it in the seat, closing the door after._ _

__“How much do you have left?” Castiel asked, placing his hands in his pockets and watched as Dean shuffled the boxes around to fit the one he grabbed._ _

__“I still have quite a few boxes, and then kitchenware, clothes, all that stuff. TV too—although if you don’t want one in the bedroom, I can just give it to Sammy.”_ _

__“We’ll figure it out.” Dean nodded. “Do you think you’ll have everything at my place by Friday?”_ _

__“At this rate, I should. But I have work tomorrow—and so do you—so we’ll see. Might have to make late evening runs into town to grab things here and there, but you’re right, we’ll figure it out.”_ _

__Dean grabbed at one of Castiel’s hands from his pocket and twined their fingers together. Castiel smiled and stepped in for a soft kiss. It had nearly been nine hours since he last kissed his boyfriend but it felt like eternity. He hummed when Dean coaxed his tongue and opened his mouth against his._ _

__—————————————_ _

__About a month had passed and Dean was completely settled in Castiel’s home. Norma took hostage of his heart, sitting on his lap whenever possible (even if it wasn’t possible, she made every attempt to make it so). It was even cuter when they both fell asleep together on the couch, and Dean would always wake up first, but wouldn't want to move because he didn't want to wake her._ _

__It was the happiest Castiel had ever been._ _

__It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, muggy for November and Dean was watching football in the living room, Norma comfortably placed on his lap, heavy on his legs, but Castiel knew Dean didn't mind. He petted her absentmindedly while watching the game. Castiel bustled round the house, vacuuming the floors._ _

__Dean lifted his legs for Castiel to drag the vacuum underneath, Norma was undisturbed by the noise of the vacuum and continued to sleep. Dean moved himself to look around Castiel and Castiel saw a small look of annoyance flicker across his face, but Dean caught himself and changed his expression._ _

__When Castiel finished vacuuming the house, he went to the laundry room, where he placed the vacuum back in the closet. He began organizing the closet, because it was looking cluttered and it bothered him. He was surprised Dean hadn’t touched it, because Castiel was noticing that Dean was rather OCD with tidiness—not that it annoyed him in any way, it was just starting to rub off on Castiel._ _

__He stepped on the stool and pushed aside the packages of toilet paper and paper towels, stacking them neatly on one shelf. He placed the boxes of tissues beside, and then went through the cleaning supplies. He threw an empty bottle of toilet bowl cleaner over his shoulder and it hit the floor with a clap._ _

__“OW!” he heard Dean yell from the couch._ _

__“What?” Castiel yelled from the closet._ _

__“Jeez…Norma doesn't get budge when you’re busy using a loud-ass vacuum, but by all means, she’ll claw the hell out of your thighs if you drop something!”_ _

__Castiel chuckled and went back to the closet._ _

__When the cleaning shelf was pristine, he stepped up once more on the stool and got to the top shelf. There was an unmarked box sitting in the back corner that Castiel hadn’t seen before. He grabbed it and pulled it down, stepping off the stool and placing it on the floor._ _

__It was still taped up, and Castiel assumed it was from Dean’s, because he didn’t remember putting a box up there before. He peeled the tape back and opened the box. It was definitely Dean’s, filled with what looked like memorabilia and keepsakes. Castiel sat down and smiled when he pulled out a photo album, sifting through it._ _

__“Hey Dean,” Castiel called._ _

__“Yeah?” his voice echoed._ _

__“Why is this box of keepsakes put away? We should have these out.” He pulled out a picture frame that was of Dean and his mother, her eyes as green as his. He set the picture on the floor and rummaged through the rest. There were old books—likely his parents’—more photo albums, and old gold metal framed family pictures. There was one more frame wedged between two thick books that Castiel pulled out._ _

__It was a picture of Dean, in uniform, police hat and all (likely from his graduation ceremony) and another man, who was planting a kiss on Dean’s cheek. Dean’s eyes were bright and his smile was wide and perfect. Castiel’s heart sank a little to see the happy exchange—jealous more than anything. The hand of the man gripped his shoulder tightly, and his other cupped Dean's other cheek as he kissed him. Dean’s hand was holding onto the hand cupping his cheek. The man was also wearing a hat, which covered half of his face and made it hard to see who it was. Castiel brought the picture closer to his face to examine it._ _

__The tufts of hair that were exposed from beneath the hat were blond, his skin was tanned. His eyes were scrunched together as he kissed Dean but the jawline looked oddly familiar. The neck that was partially exposed looked warm and inviting, shining with sweat. Castiel looked further, glancing down at the man's medals, searching for his name tag. He had to squint even harder to make it out._ _

__CST. B. MILTON._ _

__Castiel’s stomach dropped. It was Balthazar._ _


	12. Arrested Development

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHhhh! So here we are.   
> I'm sorry for the cliffhanger but it was super late last night and I had to go to bed BUT I'M HERE NOW and I've got the next chapter for you guys.   
> I want to thank you guys for reading my story, it means a lot. I was nervous to upload it--since it's my first fic, but the response has been amazing and I'm _so_ happy!   
>  I should say enjoy this chapter but... try? :/ it's pretty emotional. It was hard writing it and my betas had a wonderful time reading/editing aha

“Dean,” he said, hardly audible, but Dean heard him. He got up and walked over to Castiel. “Who is this?” 

Dean frowned when Castiel held up the picture. “That was my training officer. Balthazar Milton."

"Why is he kissing you? Was he your…boyfriend?”

“Yeah…well. He was the guy I told you about.” Castiel sucked in a breath.

“This is the guy? This guy right here?” Castiel pointed to the picture again, trying to remain calm.

“Yeah, he was. What’s wrong Cas?”

Castiel tried to piece it all together. It was impossible.

“Where did you transfer from?” he asked abruptly. 

“What—”

“The police detachment!” he bellowed. “Where did you transfer from?!” Castiel’s face was hot, his breath unsteady. No. It was impossible. Of all people. Of all the coincidences. It couldn’t be.

“Lawrence!” Dean answered, flustered. "Lawrence Police Department."

Castiel dropped the picture frame and it shattered on the floor, like his heart. 

"Woah, Cas!" 

“And he was the man you were in love with?”

“Yes, Cas. What’s going on?” Dean scrambled to pick up the frame.

“And he left you for another man to get married.”

“ _Yes_. I told you this before, Cas.”

“And he cheated on you with said man for a over a year.” Castiel started to pace back and forth, mumbling to himself, not caring that he was stepping through the glass, not hearing Dean tell him to stop. His foot caught a piece and started to bleed but he blocked the pain. His anger and confusion let the adrenalin take hold. His hands ran through his hair, tears started to stream down his face.

“Cas!”

“WHAT?!” He roared, turning around to face Dean.

“What the fuck is going on?! Who is that man to you?!”

Castiel took a deep breath to try and compose himself. He was a wreck. He couldn’t stand straight, doubling over as he tried choke back his tears, he held onto the washing machine Dean ran a hand through his own hair and huffed. 

“Castiel. Answer me," he said calmly, dropping his hand to his side, slapping it against his thigh. 

How could Dean not be able to piece it together?

Castiel sniffled and straightened himself up, avoiding Dean’s eyes.

“Look at me,” Dean said softly. Castiel brought his red rimmed eyes to meet Dean’s and he tried to keep it together. “Who. Is he?”

“He’s my husband. _Was_. Was my husband.” 

Dean’s face dropped. “Wait, what? The one that died?"

Castiel nodded.

Dean blew out a breath and placed his hands on his face, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands.

“Then…then—you’re the other man. You're the one he left me for.” His voice cracked, and Dean let his tears fall. 

“I suppose I am.” Castiel looked away, eyes filling again. He huffed out a sarcastic laugh and said, “I don't know what's worse: knowing that you were left for someone else, or finding out your husband cheated on you for over a year with the man you are currently with.” 

There was a long pause. 

“So what now then?” Dean asked. 

Castiel bent down to pick up the broken pieces of glass. 

“Don’t,” Castiel said.

“Don’t what?” Dean dropped down and helped Castiel. 

Castiel stood up and placed his handful of glass in the trashcan beside the dryer. Dean shortly followed. 

Castiel sighed. “Don’t try to think that this can be fixed.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Dean.” God, he didn't want to say it. But what else could he do? “I can’t do this.” 

It was all too much. They stood in front of each other in the middle of the laundry room, and Dean's shoulders began to shake, his bottom lip trembling as his tears fell. 

“Please don’t do this to me, Cas. I can’t lose you.” 

Castiel looked down, trying to hide his face. He didn’t want to do this to Dean. But he couldn’t stand the thought of knowing Dean was the man Balthazar cheated on him with—after having _just_ discovered Balthazar had cheated on him. 

He didn’t even know how to feel. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. This won’t work.” 

“Cas.” Dean stepped in and wove his fingers in between Castiel’s and squeezed. Castiel didn’t reciprocate. Dean's breathing started to become erratic as he got more worked up. Castiel tried to ignore it without getting worked up himself. “We can fix this. We can fix it—please let me fix it. I—I can fix it, I can fix it.”

Dean’s eyes were red and puffy, his nose leaking as he sobbed and rambled on. Castiel let his eyes shed a few more tears before he took his hand out of Dean’s. He hated the absence, and the look on Dean’s face when he did. Dean rubbed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh. 

“This isn’t something we can fix,” Castiel finally broke the shattered silence. 

“I need you. I can't lose you, Cas,” Dean begged. “I love you.” 

Castiel tried not to collapse at the expression. 

“I’m—I’m sorry, Dean,” was all he could say. He loved Dean. More than anything. But this wasn’t the time to confess like Dean did. He couldn’t. He had to push down his feelings. It was the only way. 

He left the laundry room and could hear Dean’s heavy sobs as he walked into his bedroom, where he shut the door and let everything out. He cried. Hard. His head hurt from the pressure and his eyes swelled, red and irritated from all of his pain that poured out. He sat on his bed with his face in his hands, body trembling. 

How was this possible? 

Castiel lifted his head and sniffled. He rubbed his eyes and massaged his temples. He sighed and stood up, taking the short steps to his closet where he opened the small chest on his dresser that kept keepsakes like rings, leather bracelets that he never wore, a watch, and Balthazar's police pins. There were pins from his time in Kansas City, Lawrence, and Garrison Falls. Castiel held on to the two Lawrence Police Department pins and gathered that the one he found long ago hadn't been Balthazar's at all—but _Dean’s_. Just then, he heard his bedroom door open and he stepped out of his closet to see Dean standing at the foot of the bed. 

“Dean,” he tried. 

“No,” Dean stopped him. “I wanna know why.” 

“Why what?”

“Why you can’t do this! Cas, I need to know.”

Castiel sighed. 

“I just can’t.”

“That’s not enough!” Dean yelled. His face was red and angry. He was hurt, but now he was mad about it. Castiel looked down at the pins in his hand.   
Dean took a step closer to him and breathed deeply. 

“Look,” he started cautiously, “I don't know why you can't do this. Tell me, please. We can fix it, Cas.”

“Dean. I just found out that my husband cheated on me. With YOU. Now I don't know about you, but—”

"Yeah well I just found out that he cheated on me with YOU, so really, what difference does it make?!"

"He was mine first, Dean."

Dean's face dropped, then scrunched with confusion. 

"What?" He stepped closer again. They were a foot apart. 

Castiel's breathing picked up and he was nervous. 

“I—I was with him long before he was with you. And," he paused, trying to think of words, “and…he cheated on me with you, and he just didn't tell you that you were his illegitimate lover."

"Illegitimate lover? _Really, Cas_?" He was mad. "So my love for him was invalid because he already had _you_?"

"Yes."

"Fuck you! You don't know what we had."

"Obviously it wasn't much of anything if he decided to leave you and marry me instead." He regretted it the second he said it. 

Dean's face dropped and the colour drained. He huffed out a breath of defeat. 

"Wow, Cas…that was low." His shoulders dropped and he sat on the bed, placing his head in his hands. Castiel's stomach dropped with guilt but he kept his composure. He sighed. 

"Do you understand now? Why I can't do this, why it won't work?" Castiel asked once he calmed down a bit.

One of Dean's hands shot out and grabbed at the lamp from the bedside table and threw it threw to the floor, shattering the base. 

"Dean!" Castiel exclaimed. 

"You're not _trying_!"

"How are we to fix what he did?!" Castiel threw his arms out in defeat. 

Silence. Castiel ran his hand through his hair and tried to breathe. 

But he couldn't. Everything was crumbling around him and he couldn't take it. 

He stared at the broken pieces of ceramic that were on the floor and he picked up the biggest piece remaining and threw it against the wall, letting out a sharp scream. Dean flinched. He stormed out of the room with nothing but the pins in his hands and his keys in his pocket. 

He threw on his shoes and walked out of his front door, into his garage, where he was parked. He started his car and opened the automatic door, reversing almost too soon and nearly hitting the roof of his car on the door. He avoided the Impala by inches and turned his car around, facing the opening of his driveway. 

"Castiel, wait! Stop!" Dean was at the front door, putting on his shoes and trying to catch up to him. 

Castiel turned left and sped off down the road towards the cemetery. 

He cried the entire way there. 

 

When he arrived at the cemetery, he parked the car and marched his way up to the gate, throwing it open, all the while his phone was buzzing. 

_**DEAN WINCHESTER CALLING.** _

He pressed the lock button, ignoring the call.

He could walk through this cemetery in the dark, deaf and blind, and still know exactly where Balthazar's grave was. He was standing in front of the familiar slate stone, pins clenched in his fist, and crying. 

"Why?!" he exclaimed. It was all he could crumble out. He knew it was pointless, yelling at a gravestone in an empty cemetery, but he didn't care. He glanced down at the pins in his hand and threw them at the headstone, watching as they ricocheted off with a _ping!_

His legs gave out and he found himself kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands. He wailed into his hands and let his sobs carry throughout the cemetery. His phone started buzzing again. 

_**DEAN WINCHESTER CALLING.** _

He ignored it. 

He settled himself in the dry, golden grass and pulled his knees to his chest, rocking slowly and listening to the wind as it caressed the trees. He breathed in deeply, the cool air filling his lungs. The leaves had almost all fallen to the ground but some still remained, waiting for the wind to send them away. 

His phone buzzed again. 

_**GABRIEL CALLING**_.

He answered it.

"Gabriel."

"Castiel, what's going on?? Dean just called me _hysterical_. Said you guys fought? Where are you? I'm leaving my place right now." Castiel could hear the jingle of car keys. 

"I'm with Balthazar," Castiel replied. 

Gabriel was silent for a moment. “Castiel…what happened?" 

"I can't talk about it right now. Just meet me at back at my place." He hung up the phone and stood up. He looked around for the pins, dragging his foot along the grass. After a few moments, he gave up. 

What was the point?

 

When he returned back home, the Impala was gone. He walked through the house, stopping in his room to see clothes strewn across the floor and Dean’s dresser drawers open. Norma was laying on the bed, asleep and comfortable; undisturbed. Castiel sat where Dean broke the lamp and just stared at the broken pieces. 

He heard the front door open. 

"Cassie?" Gabriel called. 

"In here," Castiel replied, his voice echoing down the hallway. 

Gabriel stopped at the doorway, glancing down at the shards of ceramic. 

"What happened Cas?" 

Castiel bent down to start picking up the pieces. He sighed.

"I don't even know, really.” 

“Well…how did it all start then?" Gabriel crossed his arms and leaned against the frame. 

"The picture…" Castiel started. He stood up and placed the broken pieces on his bedside table. 

"What?" 

"The picture I found," Castiel explained, turning towards him. "He was with Balthazar."

Gabriel rose his eyebrows. “With Balthazar in the picture, or _with_ Balthazar?"

"Both."

His mouth dropped. 

"I knew it."

“What? Gabriel what are you talking about?”

“What? No! No, I didn't know it was Dean. But I had my suspicions." 

"About Balthazar?" Castiel's heart rate began to elevate again. 

Gabriel nodded slowly. 

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?!" Castiel yelled, becoming flustered again. He walked up to Gabriel and stood in front of him, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Gabriel cowered slightly. "Don't be mad at me, brother."

"Please _explain_ yourself." 

"Let's go sit down." Gabriel nodded his head towards the living room. 

 

Gabriel set out some tea and placed it on the coffee table beside the broken picture frame. Castiel took the picture out of the frame and tried not to tear it to pieces. Gabriel sat beside him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"Castiel," he sighed, "everything is going to be okay." He squeezed his shoulder. 

Castiel sniffled. He gave him a soft nod and shrugged out of Gabriel's hand. 

"Now can you tell me how this all happened?" Gabriel asked. 

"What about you?" Castiel turned to his brother. "I need to know what you know about Balthazar."

"I'll tell you, I promise. Now," he leaned back, taking a sip of his tea, "tell me what happened."

 

Castiel told Gabriel about the entire day. Him cleaning, finding the box, and then finding the pictures. He told him everything. When he was finished, he was wiping away the tears that had crept back and haunted him. 

“Here's what I think,” Gabriel finally said. "Balthazar was a fucking douchebag and hurt the both of you." Castiel nodded, agreeing. “Now, it's not Dean's fault—don't look at me like that, you know I'm right—and he's just as hurt as you. What was between you two, was all such a mad weird coincidence. And you can't blame anyone for that.”

Gabriel was right. But he didn't know how he was going to be able to fix it all. 

"Are you going to tell me what you know now?" Castiel tried not to sound demanding.   
Gabriel nodded and stood up. 

"I'm gonna make more tea. You want some?" 

Castiel handed him his cup. He waited patiently while his brother boiled the kettle and made the tea. 

When Gabriel returned, he passed Castiel's cup back to him. 

"Thank you." 

“Alright,” Gabriel said as he got settled. “This was before you guys got married. I didn't like that he was working in Lawrence, and I know he said he was there for work, but it was just really weird to me.” He took a sip of his tea and continued. “He went there for some conference and then two months later he's transferred? That _screamed_ affair to me. 

“But he always came back. And he treated you no differently. Well, except for when you wanted him to take more time off to stay here, he would get picky and say that he couldn't. And then there were weekends where he just didn't come at all. And he _never_ invited you out there. To me, it seemed like he didn't want you there…probably because he didn't want you to know about who he was sleeping with.”

"You got all of that from a _transfer_?" 

"I'm not done," Gabriel said. "There's more."

Castiel nodded for him to continue. 

"After your 25th birthday party I started keeping a closer eye on him." Castiel squinted at him. "I didn't stalk him, if that’s what you’re thinking, Cas, jeez I'm not _that_ crazy!"

"Continue."

"Anyways. _As I was saying_ , I kept a closer eye on him, watching his behaviour whenever he was around you, and how you both interacted—from what you would tell me—when he wasn't home. My suspicions just kept getting stronger. So one day, when he was back, and you were out, I confronted him about it."

"What did you say?"

"I didn't have to say anything," Gabriel shot up a cheeky smile. Castiel furrowed his brows in confusion. 

"What do you mean?"

"I let the _implication_ that I knew, get the better of him. I just simply told him that I knew why he transferred to Lawrence and I was going to tell you about it. He begged me not to, and right then—I knew I was right."

"Why didn't you ever tell me about this?"

"Didn't think it was ever going to have to be discussed! Look, after he transferred back to Garrison Falls, he proposed to you. And I knew that he knew that he fucked up, and that he was trying to make right of it."

"But you let me marry a cheating man, Gabriel! These things come full circle you know! Kind of like, hmm, oh I don't know— _right now_!" 

"Easy, brother. I know. I know it looks bad on my part, and I apologize. But Balthazar really seemed to turn himself around. He was back to the way he was before he transferred to Lawrence, and I don't know, I guess I just let that sort of—take over. It sounds stupid, but you loved him so much, and I just didn't want you to be broken over him cheating on you, so I tried to catch it before it got too serious."

"Dean told me they dated for nearly a year. He said he was in love with Balthazar. Don't tell me that isn't 'too serious', Gabriel."

Gabriel sighed. 

"I'm sorry, Cassie. I should have told you. This whole mess could have been avoided if I was honest from the start."

"This isn't your fault Gabriel, don't blame yourself." Castiel grabbed the blanket that was hanging over the back of the couch and threw it over the both of them. 

"It still makes me feel like shit," Gabriel mumbled, tucking the blanket around himself. 

"Join the club."

Gabriel huffed out small laugh. 

"So why were you so against me being with Dean?" Castiel asked, remembering suddenly about Gabriel’s distaste with the policeman. "You told me you did some digging on him, and I ignored you. What was it that you found?"

“Yeah, that. It wasn’t much. It really wasn’t anything when I found it, but I just thought it was interesting, I guess.” Castiel looked at him to continue. Gabriel let out a breath. “When I looked into Dean, I read that he transferred from Lawrence and that he was there the same time Balthazar was. It was all circumstantial but I was just weary of it all. Pretty fucked up to find out that it was _Dean_ who Balthazar was with. It's such a fucked up coincidence. Of _all_ coincidences it had to be this."

"You're telling me," Castiel said sarcastically. They were silent for a few moments.

“So what are you guys going to do?” Gabriel suddenly asked.

Castiel leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know.” He paused. “I told him I couldn’t do this anymore.”

“You kicked him out?” Castiel looked at his brother.

“I don’t know, I—I guess so. I mean, I didn’t really know what I was going to find when I got back, but…some of his clothes are gone…so I assume he packed a bag.”

“What about the rest of his things?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to figure it out.”


	13. And The Rain Fell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. THIS IS SO HARD TO EDIT BECAUSE I'M HALF CRYING.
> 
> So this chapter is a little different because now we are going to see it from _Dean's_ POV, and it starts the minute Castiel leaves. 
> 
> I loved writing this chapter because we get a few flashbacks from Dean.  
>  ***Disclaimer***  
>  So I used to watch this show called Rookie Blue (until they cancelled it--highly recommend it though) and I took a couple dialogues from it just because I thought they were good and lightened up the mood a little. 
> 
> I hope you like it!!  
> Thank you for the comments everyone!! <3 :)  
> Also, I'm not sure how much more I'll be able to edit/update today. I'll try to get a couple more up by tonight but I have a few assignments to finish up for uni :)

Dean marched his way back into the house, grabbing a duffle bag in the hall closet. His face was red and hot, his eyes burning, and his throat was sore from yelling. 

How could this be happening?

He stuffed as many of his shirts and pants as he could fit into the bag, threw his toothbrush somewhere in one of the pockets, and grabbed a few other things. He wiped his nose with this wrist, not caring that he was a mess, and slammed the front door shut. He got into the Impala and sped off into town—the opposite direction Castiel was headed. 

He tried calling Castiel. 

“Come on, pick up!” he yelled. He threw his phone into the passenger seat when he got Cas’ voicemail and drove faster, knuckles white against the steering wheel.

It was the longest drive of his life, despite the fact he was going fifteen over the limit.

He called Sam when he was about five minutes out of town, realizing that he didn’t have anywhere to stay where he would feel comfortable being this vulnerable.

“Hey Dean,” his brother answered on the second ring. “What’s up?”

Dean sniffled, trying to hide the fact that he was still in tears.

“Whoa what’s going on, Dean?”

“I don’t even know, Sammy.” Dean’s breath hitched as he tried to catch it. 

“What happened?”

“Uh, can I—can I just stay at your place for a few days? I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, Dean. I’ll see you soon.” The line clicked and Dean tried calling Castiel again. 

He wasn’t even sure what he would say if he answered, but he just needed to know Cas was okay. _Stupid, you should have followed him if you wanted to know he was okay_ , he thought to himself.

He got Castiel’s voicemail again and he squeezed his phone in his hand with frustration. He slowed down as he was starting to get into the town limits. He drove down Main Street before he made a right turn and then a left, pulling up into Sam’s driveway. He glanced down at his phone, about to call Castiel again, but dialled Gabriel’s number instead. 

“Deano! What’s up buddy?” Why did Gabriel always sound so happy all the damn time?

“Hey, uh…” What does he even say? “Fuck, I’m sorry, I—”

“Dean? What’s going on?”

Dean took a deep breath.

“Gabe, I don’t know what to do. Everything is fucking ruined and it’s my fault… _everything_ is always my fucking fault… I can’t fix this one Gabe, I don’t know how to fix it!” He was crying again.

“Whoa, whoa, Dean. Tell me what happened.” 

“It’s Cas, there’s uh, we—we fought—I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck happened! I tried to stop him but he left before I could.”

“What? Where is he right now?”

“I don’t know. He hauled ass somewhere and didn’t tell me where he was going. I tried calling him but he won’t answer. Gabe, I need your help. He won’t talk to me. _Please_ call him. Help him.”

“Okay, I will. Where are you right now Dean?” 

“I’m at Sam’s. I just got here.”

“Okay. Stay there for now. I’ll go find Cas. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you. Thanks Gabe.” Dean let out a sigh.

“Don’t worry Dean. Everything will be okay. I’ll call him.”

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks, man.” 

Dean hung up the phone and put it in his pocket, grabbing his duffle bag and throwing it over his shoulder as he got out of the car. Sam was waiting for him inside, getting off the couch as soon as Dean walked through the door. Sadie greeted him at his knees, wagging her tail in excitement. 

“Dude!” Sam called to him, walking up to him and wrapping him in his long arms. “What happened?” 

Dean collapsed, dropping his bag and shuddering into his brother’s arms. Sam just held him tighter, resting his head on top of Dean’s. Dean felt pathetic when he wrapped his arms around Sam. He had never let him see him like this. When Dean finally had enough courage to look up at his brother, he let out a shaky breath.

“I'm sorry,” was all he said, stepping out of Sam’s hold.

“Don’t apologize, Dean. What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story, I guess.”

“Come on, come sit on the couch. Don’t worry about your bag—leave it there. Just come sit.”

 

Dean told him everything. Sam knew about him and Balthazar from the time they were together, and he knew how upset Dean was when Balthazar left him for another man. He was shocked to find out that it was Castiel. 

“So Balthazar was cheating on you with _Cas_?” 

“Well, as Cas had to go and put it—Balthazar was cheating on _him_ with _me_. Apparently he had him first, I guess.” 

“Yeah, but this is neither of your faults, Dean. You can’t beat yourself up about it.”

“What else am I going to do, Sam? Cas told me he couldn’t do this, and practically kicked me out of the house before he bolted out of there!”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Dean,” Sam finally said. “This was just some weird fucked up coincidence.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no shit, Sammy. It’s pretty fucked up.”

“It’s fixable though, Dean. You just have to try.” 

Dean sighed. 

He stood up and walked over to the front porch where is duffle bag was still sitting. 

“I think I’m gonna go lie down for a bit,” he told Sam as he walked to the guest bedroom, throwing his bag at the foot of the bed and shutting the door. He took off his shirt and let it drop to the carpet, and unbuttoned his jeans, letting them fall. He crawled into bed and wrapped himself in the covers. 

He rubbed his eyes and tried not to cry again. 

It was late evening, the sun had already set and it was dark in the bedroom. The only light was coming under the doorway from the hallway and Dean could see the shadow of Sam’s feet as they stood in front of the doorway. He didn’t say anything, but could hear Sam sighing as he made his way passed the guest room, Sadie following shortly behind. 

Dean was a mess.

—————————————

When he woke, the light was grey outside the curtains closed over the window. He didn’t remember shutting them last night, so Sam must have come in at some point and closed them, knowing it would bother Dean to be woken up by the light. His head hurt from crying and his back was sore from sleeping in the same position the entire night. He didn’t even think he was going to be able sleep at all, but crying was so exhausting. He put on a shirt and opened the bedroom door, smelling bacon, which put him in a somewhat better mood. 

“Morning,” Sam said to him when Dean emerged into the kitchen. 

Dean only grunted a response, sitting at the small kitchen table, and resting his chin on his hand. Sadie came up and licked his knee. He petted her neck and leaned down to touch his head to hers. 

Sam brought him a plate of bacon and eggs and sat at the table with him. 

“Thanks,” Dean said gruffly. 

He looked out the window and saw that it was raining. 

Breakfast didn’t seem as appealing as it just did moments before. 

“What?” Sam asked. 

Dean looked at his brother.

“Nothing. It’s raining.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for the weather report, Dean. Come on, eat your breakfast.”

“You’re not eating?” Dean asked, noticing that Sam hadn’t made anything for himself.

“I already ate. Just eat.”

Dean sighed and complied. 

 

When he was fed and showered, Dean grabbed his phone from his jeans that were still on the floor. There was a missed call and a voicemail from Gabriel from last night, and a couple texts from this morning. 

He opened his voicemail and listened to Gabriel. 

“Hey, Dean. It’s Gabriel. Just checking in. I’m at Castiel’s, he’s…he’s a mess. He finally fell asleep, so I thought I’d call you.” There was a pause as Gabriel sighed, and Dean could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb. “Listen man, you guys gotta work this out. I know deep down he doesn’t want to lose you, but he’s just hurting right now. Give it some time.” Another pause. “I’m not sure what he wants to do. He…uh—he doesn’t know what to do with your things….I think he’s half hoping that he won’t have to deal with it all, or he’s hoping this’ll all blow over and you’ll just come home. I—I don’t know. I think you guys just need to talk this through. Shit, I’m rambling on now, I’m sorry. I’ll let you go. Call me if you feel like it. This isn’t your fault.”

The line went dead and Dean stared at the Messages app for a good few seconds before he opened the texts. 

He dreaded what he read. 

**Gabriel Novak** : Castiel decided he wanted your things out of the house. We spent most of the morning just organizing everything. We both took today off work to do it. He told me to tell you that you can pick up your things tomorrow while he’s at work, if you can.  
(11:09 AM)

 **Gabriel Novak** : I’m sorry, man.  
(11:10 AM)

 **Gabriel Novak** : Let me know if you need help tomorrow. I can help during my prep blocks if you need it. Again, I’m sorry. This is really shitty.  
(11:15 AM)

Dean just stared at his phone. His heart sank. 

It was over.

 

The day was about as awful as Dean thought it would be. The rain never stopped, and it only made him sadder. He sat around most of the day, hung out with Sadie, and tried not to bum down Sam while he was writing. 

“Dude, quit sulking,” Sam said as he walked out of his library. He was still wearing his reading glasses and he took them off, folding them in the ‘v’ of his shirt. 

“Oh thanks, Sammy. I feel _so_ much better now that I know that’ll solve all my problems.” 

Dean was lying on the couch with his arms crossed and his head lifted with a pillow. He was wearing a bulky sweater and sweatpants that were baggy and loose. He was almost too hot, but he didn’t feel like moving so he suffered in his discomfort. 

“Seriously. Let’s go out or something. Get your mind off of it.”

“How am I supposed to do that when literally _everything_ makes me think of him, Sam? Besides, I don’t feel like going out.” He pulled the hood up and closed his eyes. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him and he peeked open on eye and sighed when he saw his brother staring at him from the other couch. “ _What_?”

“Don’t _what_ me, Dean! You _know_ what. You need to try and fix this. Just call him, Dean.”

Dean pulled out his phone and open the text messages from Gabriel and threw his phone across the coffee table, into Sam’s lap. Sam picked it up and read through it. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so are you busy tomorrow?” 

Sam let out a breath. “No, I’m not. I’ll help you Dean. I’m sorry.” 

Dean held out his hand and Sam tossed it back. He caught his phone and closed the screen, shoving it back into his pocket. It was silent aside from Sadie walking through the house.

“Dean?”

“What?” he groaned. 

“It’s going to be okay. You’ll get through this.”

Dean closed his eyes and nodded, even though he didn’t agree.

 

Dean decided to call in and take a few personal days off of work so that he wouldn’t have to go in while he was grieving over their breakup. He didn’t know how Castiel could go back to work so soon. He guessed Cas was the type to use routine as a distraction. Dean was the opposite. He was sucked into all the pain and he dragged it into the next morning when they pulled into Castiel’s driveway. 

They arrived at 8:00 AM, after Dean knew Cas would be gone. Dean used his house key and let them both inside. Sam had followed with his truck so they had extra space to haul things. Gabriel wasn’t lying when he said they packed up everything. Dean’s things were packed in boxes, taped up, and sitting in the garage. Dean opened the automatic door and they went to work. 

They had to make a couple trips back and forth and it took most of the morning to get halfway through everything. Just after noon, Dean got a text from Gabriel.

 **Gabriel Novak** : I have my prep block in an hour  
if you need any help. Let me know.  
(12:31 PM)

 **Dean** : Thanks, but I think we’ll manage. If not we’ll come back tomorrow while Cas is gone.  
(12:32 PM)

 **Gabriel Novak** : Ok. Let me know if  
you need anything.  
(12:33 PM)

 **Dean** : Thanks.  
(12:33 PM)

 

They managed to get everything done before Dean knew Castiel would be home. It was a lot of work, and he was exhausted by the end of the day, but they did it. He was half relieved, but mostly sad. He had left his key on the kitchen island, and hugged Norma tightly before they left. The boxes were left in Sam’s garage and he crashed on the couch for a couple hours before he decided to do anything about them.

He ate a quick supper and then puttered around the house before he got the motivation to sift through them. Sam came into the garage about an hour later and saw he was going through some of the boxes. Dean was sitting on the bottom step that led into the garage and was rummaging through a box of books.

“What are you doing?” He asked. Dean glanced back at him and saw he was holding a bowl of cereal, one of his evening snacks. 

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re making a mess of my garage.” Sam took a bite from his spoon, leaning against the door frame. 

“Well I gotta get this organized the way I like it so I know where everything is.” Dean opened another box that had his kitchen things in it. 

“Everything is in boxes, Dean. He even labelled them. You’re just doing this to keep yourself busy.”

“Is that a crime?” He glared at Sam. He hated it when his little brother was right. 

Sam sighed. “No, it’s not. But it’s getting late, and there’s nothing you can do with all this stuff anyways.” 

“You mean until I get my own place right?”

“No, Dean, that’s not what I meant. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. We just need to find a place for your things, or you know…you can just move in with me.”

Dean turned his whole body to face his brother, getting to his feet.

“What?” He wiped his hands on his sweatpants. 

“Well, you might as well,” Sam started to explain. “It’ll be easier too, for when I have to leave town and Sadie can just be here with you. I was thinking about it last night. You can just stay in the guest room, it’s plenty big enough, and no one ever comes over to use it so, yeah.”

He just stared at Sam in disbelief. 

“Well?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, that’s uh—great, Sammy. Thanks.” Dean gave him a soft smile and half a hug as he walked around Sam and into the house.  
Sam turned and followed him down the hall. 

“Okay, sweet. We’ll find the space for the things that you don’t need here right now. I can get a shed or something?”

“Don’t go out of your way to buy me a friggin’ shed, Sam,” Dean shook his head. “I’ll figure it out.” He yawned and stretched his arms. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Dude, it’s like 8:00,” Sam said. 

“And I’m tired, so I’m going to bed.”

“Alright. Have a good sleep then, I guess.”

“Yeah. You too.” Dean turned and walked to the bathroom where he started a shower. His back was sore from carrying boxes and his head was sore from hardly eating. 

He missed Castiel. 

He checked his phone before he stepped into the shower.

Nothing. 

He texted Gabriel.

 **Dean** : How is he?  
(8:09 PM)

He stared at his phone for a minute before setting it down and getting into the shower. He let the water run down his naked body, washing away the day’s work. It was hot against the back of his head but Dean didn’t mind. It helped clear his thoughts. He stood under the water for a few minutes before he washed up. It felt weird not showering next to someone. 

Dean felt so empty and alone. 

He heard his phone ding from a text message and quickly rinsed off, and turned off the water. He dried himself off before he reached for his phone. 

**Gabriel Novak** : He’s okay, for the most part. I’m staying again tonight so that he has some company. He seemed saddened that your things were already gone, like he was expecting them to still be here and that you weren’t taking them away so soon. I don’t know, it’s hard to read him. He’s pretty moody, which tells that he’s hurting, and that doesn’t know how to feel about it. I think he feels guilty for kicking you out. He knows it’s not your fault, but it’s just the situation…is so awkward. It’s a lot to take in. Just give it some time. He’ll come around.  
(8:18 PM)

Another message popped up.

 **Gabriel Novak** : How are you doing?  
(8:20 PM)

 **Dean** : I’m okay, for the most part. It was a long day. And it was hard. Sam was a big help, I don’t know what I would do without him. Cas is lucky to have you there with him.  
(8:21 PM)

Dean set his phone down on the counter. Water was still dripping from his hair and into his eyes but he didn’t care. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. He finished drying off and went to his bedroom where he got dressed and went to bed. 

 

Dean woke up in hot sweats, shaking and breathless. The clock on the bedside table read 2:43 AM. He was only wearing boxers but the sweat dripped down his body. The sheets were damp and cold. He got up and ripped them from the bed, not sure where to put them so he left them on the floor. He went out into the hallway closet in search for a new sheet. His head was pounding, his heart racing, and he could hardly breathe.

He was having a panic attack.

The accordion door got stuck halfway open and Dean couldn’t see far enough inside to see where the sheets where—if they were even in this closet. He felt around and could mainly feel towels so quickly grabbed a few before he woke Sam up. 

He laid them out on the bed and sat on the edge, holding his head in his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. He tried to breathe slowly to calm himself down but it had been so long since the last time he felt this way. He tried not to think about it, but it was no good. The last time he felt like this was when Balthazar left him. 

Everything was so perfect with Balthazar. The way he carried himself, his humour, his radiant smile and his _accent_ (was fucking killer), and it didn’t take long for Dean to fall in love with him. 

—————————————  
_Six Years Ago_

It was Dean’s first day out of the Academy and he was ready. He was _born_ ready. He was accepted at Lawrence Police Department with the top marks in his class; his parents would be proud. There was some police conference thing happening in Lawrence that weekend and the station was bustling with detectives, captains, commissioners, constables, and sergeants from all over the state. Dean thought it was strange they were all meeting in a town as small as Lawrence, but whatever. 

Dean arrived for his first parade on time and took a seat. He sat amongst some of his fellow classmates from the Academy. Aaron, Lisa, and Ash were sitting at his table and he made small talk with them.

“You ready for this Winchester?” Ash asked him over Lisa’s head. 

“You know it, Ashley!” Dean quipped back. Ash glared at him. He hated it when Dean called him that, and Dean knew it. 

“It’s _Ash_ , asshole.”

“Okay, you guys, cut it out,” Lisa piped in. 

Dean rolled his eyes laughed.

“What about you Aaron? You ready for this?” Dean turned to his left to look at Aaron who was breaking out in a nervous sweat. Dean chuckled and placed a reassuring hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “Ah, don’t worry man! It’s an easy day today! We’re riding with the T-O’s!”

“Yeah well I’m still not so sure—” Aaron was interrupted by the Captain walking into the parade room. 

Captain Benny Lafitte was a burly man, bearded, and had a strong southern accent which made Dean shift in his seat. The man was attractive, Dean had to admit. But he wasn’t here to get into his pants. That wasn’t allowed and Dean already missed the Academy. 

“Alright everyone,” Lafitte started, “I want to take this minute to let everyone know we have a few new rookies with us.” There were some cheers from other officers, some groans. “Now, I know this is a busy weekend with the conference and all, but I want all of you training officers to do your job, and make sure these rookies don’t get into any trouble that they can’t get out of.” 

Everyone nodded and murmured “yes sir” and Captain Lafitte went on to explain their open cases.

“This is so cool,” Dean whispered to his right, forgetting that it was Lisa sitting beside him.

“Shh,” she hissed. 

“Sorry.”

“Winchester!” Lafitte boomed. Dean could feel his face turn red. “You got something to say, kid?”

“Uh, no,” and then he added, “ _Sir_. No sir. Nothing.”

There were some snickers from behind him but he ignored them. 

“Alright. That’s everything for today. Now remember, rookies: serve, protect, and…don’t screw up. We got a reputation to uphold, so let’s make it a good one.”

Captain Lafitte dismissed the parade room and Dean walked over to the T-O board to see who his training officer was going to be for the day.  
J. Mills. Dean had no idea who that was so he was really hoping it wasn’t going to be someone annoying—

“You Winchester?” a voice said behind him. He turned to face a pretty brunette woman with dark brown eyes. “I’m Jody Mills. I’ll be your training officer today.”

“Okay.” Dean cleared his throat and put out his hand in offering. She shook it firmly. She was stronger than she looked. 

“Alright let’s get going.”

She led him out of the parade room and gave him a quick tour, even though Dean already had one; showing him things as they made their way out to the back where the squad cars were parked. She stopped at hers and placed her bag in the trunk. She showed Dean the contents of the trunk, where the shotgun was kept, and went over a few protocols with him. 

They were out on their route and silent for a few minutes before Jody said anything. 

“People can smell new cops like they can smell fresh paint.” It was random and Dean didn’t really know how to respond. 

“Uh, wouldn’t that be because we _are_ new?”

“Yes, well. The idea is you’re not supposed to let them know. It makes you an easy target. Which is why I’m gonna give you the talk, Winchester.”

“The talk?” Dean was nervous. He hadn’t barely started and already he could feel like he was going to screw up under her watch. 

“Yeah, the ‘don’t embarrass me talk; your radio is on the wrong side of your belt talk; do as I say, not as I do.’ _That_ talk.”

Dean looked down and scowled. His radio _was_ on the wrong side of his belt. He awkwardly fixed it and readjusted his seat so that he was more comfortable.

“There you go. Alright, let’s catch some bad guys.”

Who was this chick?

 

The day was long and Dean was exhausted by the end of his shift. He was walking out of the men’s change room when he bumped into someone.

“Sorry!” he said before even looking at the guy.

“It’s alright, I wasn’t paying attention.” The man had a British accent and Dean’s throat tightened. He was gorgeous. His tanned shin and blond hair, blue eyes, had Dean almost falling over. 

Dean tried not to notice the guy eyeing him up, but the dude wasn’t hiding it. The man smiled. It was a moment before the man spoke again.

“I’m Balthazar. Milton.” He held out a hand. Dean took it and found that the man’s hand was delicate and soft, unlike Jody’s from earlier. 

“Dean. Dean Winchester.” 

“It’s nice to meet you Dean Winchester. I’ve got to go, but maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

Did Balthazar wink at him? Dean wasn’t sure but he turned around and left the station. 

 

Ash told him earlier that him and the other rooks were going to the bar to celebrate their first official shift. Dean pulled up to the Wayward Pub that was dedicated to the cops of Lawrence. He walked in with as much confidence as he could muster up, but he had to admit, he was tired and didn’t really feel like getting too rowdy tonight. He quickly found Ash and Aaron sitting in a booth. Apparently he just missed Lisa, but Dean didn’t care. She was too stuck up for his liking anyways. 

“‘Sup guys?” he said as he sat down.

They both nodded and grunted in greeting.

“How was your first shift?” Dean asked.

“It was alright,” Ash answered. “I got this real chatty chick as my T-O and it made it entertaining.”

“Oh yeah? Who’d you get?”

“Officer Hanscum.” 

“That blonde one?”

“Yep.” Ash took a drink of his beer. Dean waved at the waitress to bring him one. 

“Nice. And you Aaron?” He nudged Aaron’s elbow and Aaron shrugged. 

“I don’t know. It was good, I guess. I’m still not sure I’m cut out for this job.”

“Ah, don’t say that, man!” Ash said. “You’re great! You just need to get used to it, that’s all.”

“Yeah, hey man, you’ll be a pro in no time!” Dean encouraged. 

The waitress brought him his beer, and Dean thanked her while he paid for it. 

They continued their talk about their day, and Dean told them about Officer Mills and how much of a hard ass she was. The waitress came back and gave them a refill, and left. She returned with a shot glass and a smile. 

“This is for you,” she said as she placed it in front of Dean.

“Oh I didn’t order a shot,” Dean explained, confused. 

“It’s from that man over there.” She turned and pointed to a blond man sitting at the bar. He turned his head and looked right at Dean and he recognized him as Balthazar, eyes dark, and the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in flirtation.

“Oh. Uh, thanks.” The waitress left and Dean turned and looked at Ash and Aaron who suddenly became very interested in Dean. 

“Who’s that guy?” Ash asked with a mischievous smile. 

“Uh, I dunno, some guy I guess. I met him earlier at the station.” He downed the shot and winced. Bourbon. 

“Are you gonna go talk to him?” Aaron whispered, even though he didn’t have to. 

“Should I?”

“Yeah!” Both Ash and Aaron answered at the same time and then started laughing. 

“Shit.” Dean tried to compose himself as he stood up and walked over to the bar where Balthazar was sitting. He cleared his throat before saying, “Thanks for the shot.”

“You’re welcome, Dean. Have a seat.” He gestured to the empty bar stool that was beside him. Dean sat nervously. He hadn’t been flirted by a guy in forever. 

 

He soon warmed up to Balthazar. They talked about their job, Dean explaining how he just became a rookie, and Balthazar told him he was only here for the conference but worked a few hours away. 

“It’s a small town but I’m hoping to become Captain some day,” he told Dean. 

They were sitting closely together, thighs bumping every now and then. Their elbows rested on the bar, touching slightly. 

“That sounds awesome. I hope you get it. How long before you have a shot at it?”

“Ah, it won’t be for a while. I’m only a constable.”

“Hey, that’s something. I’m only a rookie,” Dean smiled and Balthazar returned it. Dean took a sip of his beer and looked over to where Ash and Aaron were still sitting, occasionally glancing over at him and Balthazar.

“I hope this isn’t premature, but can I ask you something?” Balthazar asked abruptly. 

Dean turned back and nodded. 

“What are your thoughts about coming back to my hotel room tonight?”

Dean sucked in a breath. 

“You can _absolutely_ say no," he continued. "I’m leaving town tomorrow, and I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but I really enjoy your company. I also have never done something like this before, but there’s something about you…”

Dean thought about it for a moment. He didn’t have to work early the next day, Balthazar was hot as fuck, and Dean hadn’t gotten laid in months. His dick twitched just thinking about it. 

“Yeah,” he said finally, eyes darkening. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

—————————————  
_Five Years Ago_

Nearly a year had already passed and Dean was happier than ever. Being with Balthazar was perfect. He was perfect, more than, if Dean was being completely honest. Dean was head over heels for the guy and it just felt… _right_. 

After that one night with Balthazar, they couldn’t get enough of each other. Late night phone calls, texts, pictures, everything. It was about two months later when Dean got the call, and Balthazar told him that he was transferring to Lawrence. 

On one condition: that Balthazar got to go home on the weekends to visit his family. Dean never questioned it, but as they were dating for almost a year, Dean couldn’t help feel upset that Balthazar wasn’t taking him home with him to meet his family. 

It was around the middle of October and Dean and Balthazar were arguing about his next trip back home. 

“Look, I've got to go. I have a surprise birthday party to attend and I can't miss it.” Balthazar was zipping up his bag and he grabbed it, throwing it over his shoulder and walked towards the front door.

“Can't I come along?” Dean asked. “I’d love to meet your other friends.” 

Balthazar sighed. “I'm sorry, love. I can't bring you this time—”

“You _never_ bring me.”

“Dean, I’m sorry. It was by invitation only and the plus ones had to be formally specified. I didn't think you'd want to come, seeing as you wouldn't know anyone. But I'll be back Sunday night and we can catch up then, okay? 

“Why do you always have to leave every weekend?” 

“You know why. I have family that I visit. My mother mostly. A brother. Friends. It's all social.”

“Then why not introduce me?”

Balthazar sighed again. He opened the door.

“I can't talk about this right now, sweetheart, but we'll talk when I get back, okay?” He leaned in and kissed Dean on the cheek “Have a good shift at work tomorrow. I'll see you when I get back.”

Dean nodded, caving in. “Alright. I love you.”

“And I you,” Balthazar replied.

“Drive safe,” Dean said as he let the door shut. He placed his hands on his hips and let his head fall back in frustration. 

He tried to keep himself busy.

—————————————

A few months had passed and Balthazar still hadn’t brought him back home with him, but he did stay some weekends, which Dean thought made up for it. Dean was sitting on the couch watching TV one afternoon when Balthazar came out of the bedroom with his suitcases. 

Dean turned off the TV and stood up, anxious and unsure. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, voice already starting to shake. They hadn’t been doing well lately, arguing a lot, and Dean was worried about them.

“Dean,” Balthazar started, “we need to talk. Please, sit down.”

 _That_ never ended with anything good. But Dean sat back down, and Balthazar sat next to him.

He rested a hand on Dean’s knee and sighed. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I have to be truthful with you.”

“Uh—okay. What is it?” Dean’s breathing was picking up and he tried not to let it become obvious. 

“There’s…” Balthazar sighed. “There’s someone else, Dean.” 

His stomach dropped. 

“It’s why I’ve been gone every weekend,” he continued. “I didn’t think it was much of anything but I’m in love with him. I wanted to tell you in person.” 

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I’ve had my paperwork put through and I’m transferring back home. I’m getting married.”

Dean’s eyes welled with tears. 

“No,” was all he could say.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I did not anticipate any of this to happen.” Balthazar stood up. Dean stayed seated, letting the tears fall.

“So you’re just gonna _leave_ , then?” Dean said it through his teeth. His jaw was clenched as he tried to stifle back more tears. 

“I can’t do anything else, Dean.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Balthazar sighed. 

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

And with that, Balthazar turned and grabbed his suitcases and walked to the door. Dean stood and turned, only to watch him open the door and walk out. Dean was standing alone in his house with nothing but the ticking clocks and a broken heart.

—————————————

Dean was in pieces from the memory. It hurt so bad to be left like that, and now he felt that Balthazar was out to get him from beyond the grave, torturing him and Castiel. He was lying in bed now, under the covers and crying from the loneliness. The clock read 4:24 AM. Dean sighed and rolled over to his side, hoping for sleep to allow him to escape the pain. 

It was a long night for Dean Winchester.


	14. Bad Intentions Lead to New Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have added an original character for a brief bit, mainly because I couldn't think of an SPN character that I wanted to use so yeah :P

Castiel woke up Wednesday morning with a headache. Mostly from crying, but he took a couple Advil from the medicine cabinet in his bathroom and walked out to make some coffee. Gabriel was just waking up on the couch when Castiel walked over the kitchen. 

"Hey," he said, rubbing his eyes. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like shit," Castiel answered honestly. Gabriel stood up and walked over into the kitchen, sitting at the island while Castiel made coffee. "You?"

"About the same. Norma kept lying on top of me."

"She does that." Castiel could already see that Norma was acting differently since Dean left. She meowed more, which was odd since she was usually pretty silent. And when Castiel sat down, she was instantly on his lap, something that she primarily only did with Dean. It only made Castiel sadder. 

It looked like the weather was going to be nicer today, the sun was already out and the sky was a light shade of blue. Yesterday was depressing with the rain and it made it harder for Castiel to stop thinking about Dean when the rain poured down his classroom window. 

"What are your plans this weekend?" Gabriel asked. 

"I don't know. I hadn't planned that far ahead. Probably marking." 

"Dude, it's Thanksgiving weekend." 

"And?"

Gabriel sighed. "I don't know, I thought I'd ask and see if you wanted to do anything."

“We never do anything for Thanksgiving,” Castiel replied, giving his brother a strange look. “Actually, I think I'm gonna get out of town."

Gabriel made a face. "Why?" 

"I just need some time to figure this all out."

Gabriel's face softened and he agreed. "Where are you gonna go?"

"I don't know. Maybe to the city."

Gabriel nodded and thanked him when Castiel handed him a cup of coffee. 

"You don't need to stay here Gabriel," Castiel told his brother. "I know the couch is only comfortable for so long."

"Only if you say you don't need me anymore," Gabriel replied, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Castiel was sincere when he answered, "I'll always need you Gabriel."

Gabriel smiled softly. 

 

The next two days dragged on and Castiel was happy that it was finally Friday. Gabriel volunteered to watch Norma and the house for him for the weekend while Castiel went to Kansas City. Castiel was busy packing when he got home from work, while Norma was lying on his bed. Gabriel arrived about ten minutes before Castiel was about to leave. 

It was a couple hours' drive to get to Kansas City and Castiel took that time to enjoy the late autumn colours, brown and orange, the trees leafless and beautiful—in Castiel's opinion. Autumn was his favourite time of the year; the time where everything falls and becomes new in the spring. This was what Castiel needed. 

He listened to soft folk music while he drove, keeping both hands on the wheel. He was actually kind of excited. Castiel never took any time for himself. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do when he got to the city. But he knew he couldn't wait to get there. 

 

He pulled into the city at around 7:30 PM, starving, and more tired than he anticipated. He checked into his hotel and ordered room service. 

"Have fun," Gabriel had told him. "Let loose! Do something you've never done before!" which was code for 'have a one night stand.'

Castiel contemplated it. He'd never done anything like it, but that was because he was grieving over Balthazar. Now that he felt no reason to grieve over him, he was still grieving over Dean. He had almost asked Gabriel if he had talked to Dean but he thought it was best not to pry while it was all still quite fresh. 

After he finished eating, he showered and felt more energized. He put on his best jeans, even tousled his hair. That's what the kids were calling it nowadays, right? He wore a light salmon dress shirt and sprayed cologne on. 

He was going out. 

 

He walked to the nearest bar that was packed with people. He paid $10 to get in and was given a stamp on his wrist. The music was loud and not something Castiel was accustom to listening to, but he went with it. There was a dance floor where people were jumping and grinding against each other. The bar was set in the centre of the room, square, and accessible from all sides. Waitresses in tiny nonexistent dresses scurried around the bartenders, getting drinks for people sitting at the tables and booths. Castiel leaned up against the bar and an attractive bartender came up to him and took his drink order.

“Double rum and coke, please,” he said. “And can I get a shot of whiskey too, please?”

“You got it,” the bartender replied, winking back at him. 

Castiel hardly drank liquor, and hardly went to the bar. If he was being honest, this wasn't really his scene. 

" _Gotta try new things!_ " Gabriel sounded so encouraging in the back of his head. He downed the shot and suppressed a cough. He paid the bartender and then made his way around to the other side of the bar where people were sitting. He found an empty stool and sat down next to a pretty blonde woman who was flirting shamelessly with another bartender. 

He sat there for a while, listening to the music, chatting with people who would come and go. He was on his third double when a man approached the bar. He was slim built but toned, sultry brown eyes, dark messy hair, and wore a tight white v-neck tee shirt. He ordered a scotch. 

"Are you waiting for someone?" he asked Castiel. 

"Sorry? I can't hear you all that well," Castiel asked loudly, leaning closer to the man. 

"Is this seat taken? Or are you waiting for someone?"

"Oh! No, by all means, sit." Castiel gestured to the stool beside him. 

"Thanks." The man sat down and rested his arms on the bar. "What are you drinking?"

"Rum and coke," Castiel replied, holding the tumbler in his hand. 

"Excuse me, bartender? Can I get him another drink here?" he yelled towards one of the bartenders. 

"Oh, thank you. That's very kind of you," Castiel said. 

"You look like you could loosen up," he laughed. 

" _Still?_ Man. I might need something stronger than rum. This'll be my fourth." The bartender passed him his drink and the man paid for it. 

"Another scotch too, while you're at it," he told the bartender. The man handed Castiel the scotch and paid the bartender again. 

"Thank you," Castiel smiled. 

"Name's Liam," he said, holding out his hand. 

"Cas." Castiel shook his hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Cas."

"Likewise," Castiel smiled. 

"So, what's a guy like you doing all by yourself in a bar like this?"

"Ah," Castiel paused. "it's a long story." Castiel took a drink of his rum and coke. 

"Was he an asshole?"

Castiel smiled softly. "No. He wasn't. Just circumstances weren't making it easy for us to remain together." He paused, suddenly becoming curious. "How did you know I was gay?"

"It gets easier to spot each other out after a while." Liam winked at him, taking a generous swig of his scotch.

Castiel's head was becoming fuzzy and he realized he was finally starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. He nodded in agreement and took another sip of his drink. 

They sat along the bar and talked for over an hour and Castiel was enjoying Liam's company. They eventually moved themselves to a booth where they were sitting closely together, deep in conversation. 

Castiel learned that Liam was a mechanic, loved the colour blue, and spent most of his evenings studying for school. He learned that Liam also went through a bad breakup recently (far worse than Castiel—so he claimed) and swore on his life that he wasn't looking to go home with anyone tonight—scouts honour. But Liam wasn't subtle when he would lean in and their knees would touch, or when he would pass Castiel a drink, letting his fingers linger over Castiel's a little longer than necessary. And his eyes, Castiel noticed, more than once, Liam glancing over to check him out, and it sent shivers down his spine. 

Castiel told him little things, like his job and a few hobbies. His chickens became the topic of an interesting conversation for a while that had Castiel's stomach in stitches from laughing so hard. He wasn't as open as Liam was, but Liam didn't pry, which made Castiel feel good.

Liam was kind enough to walk Castiel back to his hotel at the end of the night. It wasn't too far of a walk from the bar and they were still talking when they arrived at the lobby entrance. Castiel didn't want to stop talking with him. 

"I had a really nice time," he told Liam. "Thank you."

"That was really great, yeah." Liam smiled, and for the first time that night, Castiel looked down at his lips, warm and inviting. Liam had suddenly become impossibly close to Castiel, and Liam lifted a hand, cupping Castiel's cheek. 

"Uhm," Castiel said, trying to find words. Liam leaned in and kissed him softly, and Castiel opened his mouth invitingly, humming when Liam slid his tongue inside. Liam's mouth tasted like scotch and it soaked into Castiel's mouth. 

When they parted, Liam was sincere. 

"I hope you have a good night," he smiled and kissed Castiel once more before he stepped back. 

Castiel's heart was racing, his stomach was flipping. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but he suddenly had the urgency to bring him upstairs to his room, but he shoved the thought away. He was about to say goodbye when he felt the first drop of rain fall onto his cheek. Liam squinted up at the sky, as more rain began to fall down. 

Pain shot through Castiel for a brief moment. 

He decided that he wasn't going to stay alone tonight. 

"Do you want to come inside?" Castiel heard himself say. "At least until it stops raining." 

Liam smiled and nodded, taking Castiel's hand and letting Castiel lead him through the doors. 

When they were in the elevator, and alone, Castiel turned and pushed Liam against the wall, pressing his lips hard against Liam's. He could feel Liam's growing erection as it throbbed against his thigh, and it sent a jolt of electricity straight to his own, which twitched in response. Liam grabbed at Castiel's back, clenching his hands into his shirt as Castiel sucked in his bottom lip. He made a pleasing sound when Castiel bit into it. 

The elevator lurched to a stop and they both separated, out of breath, and hard. Castiel led Liam down the hallway, stopping to kiss him at his door while he put the key card in and walked through the threshold of his room. He kissed him generously while Liam walked backwards towards the bed and then pushed him onto his back. He was quick when he unbuttoned Liam's jeans and shoved his hand inside, grabbing his cock. Liam threw his head back and moaned as Castiel stroked him. 

Castiel took his hand a way to pull up Liam's shirt, trailing kisses down his stomach. He stopped short of his jeans that were still clinging to his hips. He looked up at Liam who was already breathless. 

"I suppose I should ask if you would like to go further," Castiel said. 

Liam swallowed. "Yes. I do."

"Top or bottom?" 

Liam's eyes darkened. "Bottom." 

Castiel let himself smile as he pulled Liam's pants down, watching as his cock strained against his underwear. Castiel stood and removed his own shirt and pants, discarding them into the corner of his room. He crawled up Liam's body, pulling his shirt up as he went and kissed him passionately. Their cocks grazed against each other through their boxers and Castiel ground his crotch down, adding more friction as he moved his hips back and forth. When Liam was a writhing mess, Castiel brought his hand back down under his boxers and stroked him. Liam sighed and moaned when Castiel tightened his grip. 

"Yeah, Cas. Just like that. Ugh baby," he breathed. Castiel froze only for a split second. No one ever called him that except Dean. He squeezed his hand more and kissed Liam harder, hoping to push the feelings away. 

"Come on," Liam pleaded into Castiel's mouth. "Fuck me. Please."

Castiel didn't need to be asked twice. He got off of the bed and searched through his bag where he had packed lube and condoms. He wasn't sure he was even going to be able to use them, having this being the first time he's done anything like this, but it was always better to be prepared than not. 

"Take those off," he ordered. Liam pulled his boxers down and Castiel kept his emotions in check. He could do this. 

Try new things, right?

He put some lube on his fingers and went to work, stretching Liam with perfection. When he was ready, Castiel entered his cock slowly before letting his dominance take over, thrusting deep into the man's entrance. 

Then it was different. 

It was different having sex with someone new. Sure, the act itself was simple and rather repetitive, and one would think it'd be simple enough to engage in such activities, but Castiel struggled to get passed the idea of it all. When him and Dean had their first time, it had been ages since Castiel had slept with someone that wasn't Balthazar, let alone have sex with them. The relationship that he and Dean built made it feel right. Now he was broken. Broken like the lamp, scattered like the pins, and aching for the taste of Dean's lips against his. 

Castiel tried to hide the fact that he was beginning to cry, masking his ragged breaths with his rhythm while he pounded into a man he hardly knew. Liam was lost in his own euphoria to notice anything, and Castiel was grateful for that. 

He almost couldn't make it through. But he waited until Liam came with a loud cry, and he stilled himself, groaning, as he pretended to come. He was already softening when he pulled out, and turned himself away hoping Liam wouldn't notice his tears. He walked to the bathroom where he discarded the empty condom and wiped his face on a cold cloth. He was half relieved to see Liam dressing when he emerged from the bathroom. 

"It stopped raining," Liam smirked, and then winked at Castiel, who tried to play the whole thing off as smoothly as he could. 

"What a good way to pass the time," he replied with an even voice. 

When Liam was completely dressed, he walked over to the table in the room and grabbed a pen. He took Castiel's hand and outstretched his arm, and wrote down his phone number. "For whenever you're back in the city." He put the pen down and kissed Castiel softly. "Have a good night, Cas."

Castiel sighed, pretending to sound content. "You too." 

—————————————

Gabriel was surprised when Castiel arrived back home a day earlier than he expected. The house was still in one piece, which was a good sign, and Norma was alive; all was well. Gabriel was watching TV when Castiel walked through the door. 

"Woah, why you home so early?" Gabriel asked, getting off the couch. 

"It's 10:00 AM, Gabriel. It's not early," Castiel replied smartly. 

"You know what I meant." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "What happened?"

"Nothing, I just felt like coming home."

"You were hardly there twelve hours, Castiel. Something happened."

"Yes, Gabriel. I am well aware of the time I spent there. I realized once I was there that it was a terrible idea and decided to come home. There. It's that simple."

Gabriel turned around and walked back towards the couch mumbling to himself. Castiel soon followed and accompanied his brother. He got himself comfortable and turned his attention to the TV. Gabriel was watching something on Netflix that wasn't appealing to Castiel's tastes so he found his mind wandering off. 

Dean would walk into his thoughts only for a brief moment, and then disappear into the mist behind his eyes. It almost seemed natural and humbling to see his familiar face. The laugh lines around his eyes, the way the light would bring out the gold in them. His perfect smile could cure the sick. Castiel was hopelessly in love with him. 

But it would never work out. 

"What is that?" Gabriel interrupted his thoughts, pointing at his arm. 

"What?" Castiel glanced down and saw the faint remnants of Liam's phone number that didn't get completely washed out in the shower last night. Castiel pulled his sleeves down. "Nothing." 

"Cassie..." Gabriel shifted himself so that his body was facing Castiel's and he shot up a sly smile. "What happened last night?"

"Nothing happened, Gabriel." Castiel was impatient with his brother's persistence. 

"That didn't look like nothing. That looked like a phone number." Gabriel was getting giddy. "Cassie, who's phone number was that?"

"No one, Gabriel. Just drop it." Castiel sighed, exasperated. 

"Oh come on, Cas! You met someone last night, didn't you?" 

Castiel shot him a glare and was hoping it would silence him, but Gabriel continued. 

"Come on, tell me! I wanna know."

"Gabriel, _please_. I don't want to talk about it." His tone was enough to make Gabriel falter. 

“Oh—okay, sorry. Uhm…if you need to talk about it, I will listen. I won't poke fun, I promise." Castiel knew he was telling the truth. There were times when Gabriel would say he won't poke fun, but it was the _way_ he said it that depicted whether or not he was being truthful. 

Castiel just nodded and went back to looking at—but not watching—the TV. Gabriel had put on something that they both would enjoy but Castiel couldn’t focus on it. He looked out the window and sighed as it started to rain again, but it was starting to become sleet and Castiel knew winter was coming. 

 

The next morning Castiel woke up and went out for a run. It was the first run he went out for in a few days and he felt refreshed when he walked back inside. He made himself a smoothie and a protein shake, the sweat running down his neck when he tilted his head back. 

Gabriel left the night before and Castiel was almost relieved to have his own space back. It was nice having Gabriel there for him, but he finally felt okay. He was ready to start his new week. He marked assignments and rearranged the furniture in his bedroom and living room, mainly to keep himself busy and distracted. Gabriel checked in with him a couple times throughout the day, which made Castiel feel good. He was lucky to have his brother. 

When Monday morning came, Castiel was ready. He jumped back into his routine from before he met Dean. It was the only way he could think would make everything go back to normal. 

But what was normal?

By Friday afternoon, he was exhausted. The routine had proven distracting, but it didn't stop the lingering sadness when it came time to sleeping alone in his bed. He craved the feeling of another body beside him. But not just _any_ body, he craved Dean's. He missed Dean more than he wanted to admit (or not admit—he was repressive). Gabriel came into his classroom after the final bell had rung. He knocked on the doorframe before walking through. 

"Hey brother," he said. Castiel was nose deep in his class novel to reply but he grunted a response. "What are you doing tonight? You got any plans?"

Castiel finished reading the last sentence of the page before glancing up at his brother, who was walking around his classroom and looking at the bulletin boards. 

"Uhm, no. I don't have plans," he replied gruffly. 

"Would you want to go out for dinner? Or to the pub? You can choose." Gabriel was flipping through an essay that was out for display. 

"Why?" Castiel made a face.

“Because, Cassie. You need to actually have fun. Kansas City was a bust, and I don’t want you to run yourself down.”

“I’m fine Gabriel,” he lied. He didn’t want his brother worrying about him.

“No, you’re not. Don’t lie to me. I know when you’re okay, and when you’re not okay. This is the time in which you are _not_ okay.” Gabriel walked up to his desk and placed his hands on the edge, waiting for a reply. “So. Where would you like to go out?”

 

Castiel met Gabriel at the quiet pub down the street from the Devil’s Trap. This one was an old Irish pub called _Fergus_ ’ owned by a middle aged British man who had a Scottish mother. Both were irrevocably in a sour mood 95% of the time, but it was a nice place. 

They sat in a booth in the far side of the pub, away from the door and the bustled comings and goings of customers. Gabriel insisted that tonight was his  
treat, and he was going to make sure that Castiel had a good time. 

They started off with a pint of beer each, and a plate of wings to start. They talked about their week, and Castiel avoided speaking to Gabriel about his feelings, mainly because he didn’t want to feel anything tonight. When he was on his third pint, Castiel was starting to feel a little foggy. Gabriel ordered them more food to sober him up a little. It was only 9:00 PM, and Gabriel said they weren’t going home just yet. 

By 10:00 PM, Gabriel had ordered a couple rum and cokes, a couple shots of fire whiskey, and a shot of something called a porn star. They shot the fire whiskey and Castiel chased his with the porn star, oddly impressed by the taste. His rum and coke was almost gone and Gabriel flagged down the waitress to order another round. 

“If your goal,” hiccup, “is to…get…me wasted so I’ll—I’ll tell you ‘bout Kansas City, you’re poorly missss…taken,” Castiel yelled over the table at Gabriel. 

The pub was suddenly crowded and rather busy, and Castiel was starting to become uncomfortable by the amount of people. The voices around them were loud and Castiel only just noticed that there was music playing and it wasn’t quiet. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Come on, seriously though! You need to talk about it. I know it’s been bugging you ever since you got back. I can tell.” 

“You can’t tell me—you don’t even know. _I_ don’t even know.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Castiel.”

“I don’t _know_.”

Gabriel scoffed.

Castiel stood up to go over to the bar to get himself another one of those porn star shots. He stood and waited, leaning up against the bar and drumming his fingers to the beat of the music. A man came and stood beside him, ordering himself a drink that Castiel didn’t catch. He was too involved with the music to care. He nodded his head along with the song, becoming impatient with the bartender, who should have had the shot made by now. 

“Can I get my drink please?” he asked. 

“Watch yourself,” the man next to him said.

“What?”

“Don’t speak to her like that.” Castiel’s brows furrowed. 

“What are you talking about? I asked if I could get my drink.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to say ‘bitch hurry up with my drink.’ Have some respect.” 

“Who the fuck are you to talk to me about respect? Huh? Who the fuck are you?” 

Castiel had suddenly become angry and defensive. He didn’t know what he was saying. Had he really said that? He was sure he asked the bartender nicely. He would never say something like that to a person. 

The man looked taken aback but became just as angry when Castiel turned back to the bartender and asked her for his drink. He watched his words this time, and was sure he didn’t say anything crass.

When he got his drink he threw a ten on the bar and muttered about keeping the change. The man took a hand and grabbed Castiel’s shoulder, pulling him back and ordering him to apologize to the bartender for being an asshole. When the man pulled him, Castiel lost his grip on the shot glass and it slipped from his hand, falling to the floor, and shattering. Castiel looked down at it for a moment before lunging at the guy. 

Castiel had never been in a physical altercation before. He didn’t even really know how to defend himself in most situations, let alone be the one throwing the punches. Before he knew it, someone was pulling off, and his stomach dropped when he realized it _wasn’t_ Gabriel.

“Woah, woah, Cas?” Dean stood him up straight, putting his hands on his shoulders. “You okay, man?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, looking down. “Don’t touch me.”

Dean took his hands off of him, and awkwardly placed them on his belt, likely unsure of where to put them. He was in uniform, which was even worse because that meant he was on duty, and this wasn’t just him coincidentally running into Castiel on his night off, no. Castiel got himself in a bar fight that lead to the police being called. He couldn’t have picked a better situation. 

The guy on the ground was grumbling about pressing charges. Dean waved him off and told him he would handle it. There were no serious injuries and the man got up and left the bar. Not without looking back to shoot a glare at Castiel, of course. Castiel’s face was starting to hurt, which probably meant he got punched. He rubbed his cheek.

“You might wanna put some ice on that,” Dean said. He was still standing in front of him, no longer touching him, but close enough that if Castiel were to fall over, he could catch him. 

“I’ll do whatever.” Castiel still couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Cas, are you okay? Can we talk? Look I won’t go through with the whole pressing charges thing. Just—I need to know if you’re oka—”

“I’m _fine_ , Dean,” he answered. “Don’t I look fine? I feel fine. I _am_ fine.” 

“Uhh, okay. Look, if you want to talk, I’m here.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Castiel finally looked up at Dean and regretted it instantly. His words cut through Dean’s face like a knife and he knew the light that was fading from Dean’s eyes was his fault. Why was everything his fault?

“Sorry…I just thought you’d want to talk.”

Castiel sighed. Everything was becoming painstakingly sober now, and he really wished it hadn’t. He saw Gabriel standing by the bar, watching them, his face with a sad expression. He walked around Dean and over to his brother, who placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“You okay, Cassie?”

“No. I’m not.”

Castiel suddenly felt his stomach roll and he knew that meant trouble. He managed to walk himself through the crowd of people surrounding the bar, over to the men’s room, where he stumbled into a stall and emptied his stomach into the toilet. Gabriel was behind him a few moments later, checking up on him. 

When Castiel was finished, he ran his mouth under the water, swishing it around to make sure any remnants of his vomit were somewhat washed away. He felt better, but worse at the same time. He’d never let himself get this drunk…ever. He was 30 years old and finally drinking to expulsion. 

How pathetic.

“Come on, brother. Let’s get you home.”


	15. Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! This chapter is MUCH lighter and it makes me giggle.   
> It's back to Dean's POV
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!! <3  
> Again, thanks for all the lovely comments, they make me so happy <3

Dean got home that night in a poor mood and he was surprised that Sam was still awake. The small lamp in his library was still illuminated and Dean noticed Sam hunched over his manuscript, red pen in hand, and making minor edits and changes.

"Hey," Dean said, stopping to walk into the library. 

Sam's library was his office, but he called it a library for the obvious reason that it basically _was_ a library. It was supposed to be the master bedroom, but Sam sacrificed it for the use of his books. Floor to ceiling bookcases that lined three walls, plus a big mahogany desk. It was an old style study, but Sam preferred to call it a library. It was his workspace. There was a leather couch placed against the only wall without a bookcase and Dean settled himself down. He was wearing his tattered jeans and a faded tee, after changing at the station before he left.

"What are you still doing up?" he asked his brother. Sam looked up and was surprised to see him sitting there, like he didn't hear him come in. 

"Oh, uh. I'm just working. What time is it?" He yawned and stretched his arms back. 

"Dude it's like 2:00 AM."

"What?" He glanced at the clock on the wall and squinted. "Well that clock is broken."

He was right, the clock read 11:32. 

"Well at least it's still right twice a day," Dean joked. Sam rolled his eyes. 

"How was work?" Sam yawned again, which made Dean yawn in return as he realized how tired he was. 

"It was fine." Dean didn't want to be reminded of Cas, but it was no good. There was something definitely off with Cas tonight, aside from the fact that he was drunk out of his mind (which he never was) and had turned into someone Dean had never seen before. 

"You're thinking about it," Sam observed. "Something happened."

"Nah. It's all good." Dean was about to stand up when Sam motioned him to sit back down. He did and sighed. 

"What happened?" 

Dean collected himself before he answered. He scratched the back of his head and tousled his hair. 

“I don’t know. I ran into Cas," he said simply. Sam rose his eyebrows. Dean continued. "Well, Gabe texted me earlier tonight and told me they were going out for a few drinks. He said Cas was having a hard time with things and thought maybe seeing me might make him open up. But he was wasted, and I mean _wasted_. He started a bar fight, Sammy. I could tell Gabe felt bad about it all. He texted me afterwards, apologizing that it didn't go how he thought it would."

"I'm sorry Dean. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really? But I know you're gonna keep bugging me till I do, right?"

"Well, talking really does help. But if you really don't want to talk about it, I'll be here for when you do."

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. "It's hard, you know?"

"It always is,” Sam agreed.

"Getting back to work has helped some,” Dean admitted, “but it's still hard. It's hard coming here after shift when I'm so used to driving out of town. It's hard not talking to him. I miss him."

"Of course you do, Dean. That's normal." Sam stood up and walked over to the couch, sitting beside him. "But right now, you just have to focus on what's going to keep you moving forward. Things will work themselves out. They always do." 

"Yeah, well." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Do you think I should go see him?"

“Who? _Cas_?" Sam turned his body to face him. "No, you can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because. He just got busted by his cop ex-boyfriend after starting a bar fight, drunk out of his mind. I'm pretty sure the last thing on his mind, is to see you. No offence."

Dean sighed again. "I need to talk to him."

"What happened at the bar wasn't your fault, Dean. If that’s what you’re thinking. He's still hurting too and you have to respect that. If you try too hard now, you'll only push him away." 

"Fuck, you're right. God."

"Don't worry, Dean. Just give it some time."

"Yeah. Well I think I'm gonna get to bed. You should too." Dean stood up and walked out of the library. 

"Goodnight Dean," he heard Sam call. 

"Night Sammy." He went to the bathroom and started the shower. 

Dean was exhausted. He was worn out, and he was lonely. He got into the shower and quickly washed up, then savoured the hot water to help wash his emotions down the drain. When he got out, he checked the time and groaned. It was almost 3:00 AM. He was glad that he didn't work the next day. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked to his room with his dirty clothes, throwing them in the hamper on his way to his dresser. He put on a pair of clean boxers and climbed into bed. He plugged his phone on his charging cord and opened the texts Gabriel sent him earlier. 

**Gabriel** : Hey man, just letting you know that Cas and I are going to Fergus' tonight at around 7:30. Taking him out for a few drinks. He's been having a rough go of it this past week.  
(6:03 PM)

 **Dean** : I'll see about stopping by. I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to see me though.  
(6:04 PM)

 **Gabriel** : I think deep down he wants to talk to you, Dean. He won’t talk to me. I've tried. Something happened with him… but I can’t say. Mainly because I don't even know myself if I'm being completely honest. I'm worried about him. It's like Balthazar all over again.  
(6:06 PM)

 **Dean** : What do you mean? Is he okay? What would I even say to him?  
(6:07 PM)

 **Gabriel** : He’s fine, I guess. He went to the city last weekend and something must have happened but he won’t tell me about it. I don't know. Just ask him how he is, maybe? He needs to talk to someone. Maybe he'll open up to you. He misses you a lot. I know that for sure.  
(6:09 PM)

 **Dean** : I don't know Gabe. I don't think it's good of me to just show up. Don’t you think it’ll just cause more tension? Or awkwardness? Because that’s the last thing I want to do.  
(6:10 PM)

 **Gabriel** : Everything will be fine. But it's your decision. We'll be there.  
(6:12 PM)

 **Dean** : Okay.  
(6:13 PM)

He opened his messages from Castiel that were still saved on his phone since before the breakup. He scrolled through the happier times and craved for them to return. The time was nearing 3:30 AM and he opened up the keyboard. He knew Cas would be asleep by now. He typed a short text and hovered above the 'send' button for a few minutes before boldly pressing it. 

**Dean** : I miss you. I hope you feel better in the morning.  
(3:28 AM)

Dean sighed and locked his phone, turning it over and shutting his lamp off. He knew he wasn't going to get a reply. He rolled onto his side and soon fell asleep, the memory of Cas wrapping around him bringing him some form of lonely comfort. 

 

Dean woke up at a bleary 7:00 AM for no reason. He groaned and tried to fall back asleep, tossing and turning for the next hour. He finally tossed the covers off just before 8:00 AM, and got out of bed. 

Sam was already awake (how, he wasn't sure) and working in his library. Dean walked into the kitchen and used Sam's fancy Keurig machine and made himself a cup of coffee. He brought one for Sam and set it beside him on his desk. Sam looked up at him with a puzzled look. 

"Why are you up this early?" He grabbed his cup and took a sip of his coffee. "Thanks, by the way."  
Dean walked over to the couch and rested his elbows on the armrest and put his feet up on the cushion, stretching himself out and placed his coffee on his chest. Sam gave him a warning look. 

"What? It's leather. If I spill it'll just wash off." Sam rolled his eyes and Dean put the cup down on the floor. "The answer to your question is: I don't know. Was really hoping to get some sleep, but I guess not. Anyways, why are _you_ up this early?”

Sam shrugged and went back to editing his manuscript. 

"What are your plans for the day?" Sam asked suddenly, not looking up. 

"I dunno. Probably laundry and some cleaning. Now that I have all day."

"Did you want to go do something?"

Dean grabbed his cup from the floor and took a sip, looking oddly at his brother. "Like what?"

"I don't know, like bowling or something?"

Dean barked out a laugh and nearly choked on his coffee. "You are not gonna catch me dead with a bowling ball if it's the last thing you do. I'm not going bowling." He shook his head and laughed again. 

“Okay…what about the movies?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. He hadn't been to the theatre in ages. 

"I could do the movies," he nodded. He took another sip of his coffee and then placed it on the floor. 

"Okay. Cool," Sam replied. "I'll see what's playing and maybe we can go tonight?"

"Sounds good. I'm gonna get started on a few things then." He swung his legs down off the couch and his foot hit his cup, spilling some of the coffee over. Sam shot him a glare. Dean only shrugged as he went to the kitchen to get a damp paper towel. "If it was on my chest I wouldn't have kicked it."

He winked at Sam, who only shook his head and told him to get out. 

 

He spent his whole day cleaning. He did that when he was troubled, and lately, it's been often. He scrubbed his already spotless bathroom, did his laundry, washed his bed sheets, dusted the entire house, vacuumed, and mopped. It was the least he could do for Sam for letting him stay here. It wasn't that Sam was sloppy, no. He was actually quite tidy. But when he was balls deep in his writing, some things tended to get left behind. A few dishes would stay in the sink longer than a day, or his clothes would be strewn across in his room, but that was his room; not Dean's business. 

By mid afternoon, Dean was beat. Sam went out for a bit to grab some groceries and hit up the theatre to see what was playing that night. Dean folded his laundry and made up his bed. He laid down for a bit, taking a rest. He pulled out his phone and saw that Castiel had read his message that morning but, like Dean knew, there was no reply. 

Dean scrolled up the messages, quite a ways (farther than last night), and stopped at a picture Castiel sent him from before they moved in together. Dean remembered that night. He was having a terrible shift, nothing was going right. Cas had sent him a picture to cheer him up. His eyes were dark and yet still painfully blue. The light from the bedside table illuminated half of his face, creating a sharp contrast for the side that wasn't. His bottom lip was bit between his teeth and his head was cocked to the side. His bare chest slick with sweat and the come had reached all the way up to his collarbone. 

"Thinking of you." was what Castiel had captioned it. It made it difficult for Dean to stay focused at work after seeing that picture. He was on night shifts so there was no possible way he could get to Castiel that night. But he appreciated the image. 

Dean stared at the image some more, his body becoming hot. Seeing Castiel's spent dick in his hand was something he nearly forgot about. And if that didn't perk his dick up. He found himself slowly palming his hardening erection over his sweatpants. His breathing hitched when he thought about what Castiel would have done to him that night, had he not been at work. Instead of Castiel coming on himself, he would have dripped himself over Dean’s panting body, painting his skin. 

Dean slid a hand underneath the band of his pants and inside his boxers where his lightly grazed his fingers over his hard cock, sighing at the contact. It’d been a while since he let himself go like this. He usually didn’t let it go _too_ long before he blue balled himself but he didn’t make it this fun when he did it. 

He began to stroke himself under his boxers as he looked at the picture. Memory was serving a good use as he thought of Castiel licking down his neck. He shuddered when he thought of him biting into his skin, the pain searing, yet incredibly wanting. Dean started to catch his breath as he tightened his grip, moving faster. He arched his back when he hit the sweet spot, letting out a low grown. He threw his phone onto the bed and shoved his other hand down his boxers, letting the precome lubricated his fingers. He brought them around his leg to apply pressure to his hole. He didn’t need much before he it was starting to build, body trembling, and aching for release. He stuck his middle finger in side slowly, the low burn increasing from not being stretched often enough was a good feeling for Dean; he liked it. He let his finger stop at the first knuckle, tenderly pushing it in and out as he stroked himself harder and faster. He started to moan, unable to make coherent sounds.

The thought of Castiel rimming him with his hot tongue was enough to send him over the edge. He came with a stuttered cry, hot come pooling over his hand, still beneath his boxers, sticky, and fucking _awesome_. Dean hadn’t gotten off like that in forever, he forgot what good it did. He let himself slowly come down from his high, his breathing becoming more normal. He pulled his finger out of his ass and awkwardly stood himself up, walking out of his room and into the bathroom. He washed up and took a piss. When he exited the bathroom, Sam was just getting home. 

_That was close._

“Hey,” Sam said to him when he walked out into the living room. Sam was busy putting things in the fridge and reorganizing the space when Dean came up and grabbed an apple from the bag. “You should wash that first before you eat it.”

Dean rolled his eyes and walked over to the sink where he ran some water over the apple and then dried it with a paper towel. 

“Okay, _mom_ ,” Dean replied, taking a bite. Sam shot him a look. “So, you find out what’s playing in the theatre?”

“Yeah, uh. The only good one that I could see you wanting to watch would be the new Star Trek one.”

“You mean that’s _here_? Hmph. I never would have suspected that. We usually don’t get good movies here.”

“Maybe it isn’t good, then,” Sam countered.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Dean said sarcastically.

"Well it starts at either 7:00 or 9:30, so it’s up to you.” Sam folded up the empty reusable cloth bags and put them in a drawer. 

“Let’s go to the early show,” Dean replied. “I’d like to try and get some sleep tonight.” 

“Sounds good. I’m gonna work on some writing for a bit. You wanna order pizza or something? I don’t feel like cooking anything.”

“You just bought groceries, dude.”

“And I don’t feel like cooking any of them right now.” Sam turned and walked into his library; Dean could hear him settle in his leather chair. 

“Alright,” Dean mumbled to himself. He pulled out his phone and dialled the pizza place. Delivery, because if Sam was too lazy to cook, Dean was too lazy to drive. 

He waited around the house, mindlessly watching TV until the doorbell rang and the pizza arrived. 

Sam scarfed down a couple slices before going back to his writing.

“Dude, the movie starts in half an hour, we have to leave soon!” Dean called to him. 

"Yeah yeah, just give me a minute," Sam yelled back, shutting the door. 

Dean rolled his eyes and took another slice, then started cleaning up the kitchen (even though it hardly got dirty). 

Another fifteen minutes passed and Sam was still at his desk. Dean walked in, ready to go, and closed his laptop that was sitting on top of the mahogany. 

"Dude! What the hell?" Sam exclaimed. 

"It's called autosave—your work is fine. Let's go." 

Sam scoffed and stood up, grabbing his coat off the back of his leather chair, huffing out an annoyed breath along the way. 

They took the Impala, Sam furiously texting away. Dean pulled out of Sam's driveway and headed towards town centre. 

"What are you doing?" Dean asked when he glanced over. 

"Nothing."

"Dude. Come on." Dean quickly grabbed at Sam's phone and glanced down. 

"Dean!" Sam tried to grab at his phone.

"Oh who's this? _Jess_? Jess who?"

"Give me my phone back, Dean." 

Dean handed the phone back and smirked. "So who is she?"

"Just the girl you hung up my Skype call on.”

"I thought you were working on your writing, Sammy. Is that what the kids are calling it now?" 

"Dean, stop. She's my publisher. Don't make it weird."

"Oh." Shit. "Sorry."

"It's fine, just don't do it again."

Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel and turned left and then right, pulling into the cinema parking lot. He turned off the ignition. 

"Look, if you're busy with work stuff, we can go another night," Dean said. 

Sam sighed. "It's okay Dean. You need this. I need this too. I've been working too much lately and I'm starting to feel it. I need a break. I told Jess I would get back to her after the movie. Come on. Let's get inside." 

Sam opened the door and stepped out. Dean followed suit and got out of his car. The movie was about to start in five minutes, and they still needed to get popcorn. Sam didn't feel like having any and left to go find them seats, but Dean needed popcorn. You couldn't go to the theatre without popcorn. That'd be ludicrous. 

Dean half smiled at himself. Ludicrous. He remembered yelling that at Cas all those months ago, when Cas was making him breakfast and wiped away the grease off the bacon. A sharp pang ran through Dean's stomach. 

_Don't_ , he thought to himself.

He was next in line. He slapped on a smile and greeted the concession clerk. 

 

He found Sam somewhere off in the middle. It was a busy Saturday night at the theatre and the room was packed. Dean settled next to his brother with his large popcorn and drink. Sam shook his head while Dean hugged his very important popcorn. 

"What?" Dean glared. "This is a thing you know. Popcorn at the movies? Sue me."

Sam laughed. "You're so weird."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk."

The lights dimmed as the previews began. 

 

“Okay, _that_ was awesome!” Dean exclaimed as they walked out of the theatre. Sam shook his head at his brother. “Did you _see_ Jim’s ass? It was like, perfect.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam chuckled. “Whatever you say.”

“You’re just jealous.” Dean was in a good mood. The movie was _awesome_. Chris Pine was a fucking god and nobody could change Dean’s mind. 

“Uh huh.” Sam didn’t bother to argue. Dean knew he was right.

They got back at the house by 9:30, and Sam went straight back to the library where he opened his laptop and got himself comfortable.

“So what do you guys even talk about?” Dean asked, following his brother and sitting on the couch.

“What?”

“You and this Jess, your publisher? Is she really your publisher, Sammy?” Dean gave a smirk and nodded his head at the computer. 

Sam huffed out a breath. “Yes, Dean. She is my publisher. And I have work things to discuss. So can you let us talk?”

“Where is she even right now?”

“New York.”

“ _Fancy_.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. 

The call came in and Dean stood up, leaving Sam to talk to his publisher. He walked out of the library and shut the door. He stopped and thought about it for a minute: New York was ahead of them by an hour. This wasn’t no work-related Skype call. There was something going on. Dean smiled to himself and carried on. He’d have to bug Sam about it tomorrow, but for now, he was going to relax and enjoy the rest of his night. 

He had a pretty good day.


	16. Out With a Bang — Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this will be the last chapter for the night. I need to get to bed because I have to wake up at 6AM aha. 
> 
> This chapter is EXTREMELY LONG. It's insane. This chapter alone is over 9,200 words and most of my chapters are around 4,000 hahaha  
> ASHJDFLBk; I'm so excited to share this chapter with you guys!!!!  
> You'll hate me but I love you? <3  
>  **WARNING** : THERE IS BLOOD SO UH YEAH.
> 
>  **ALSO** a little disclaimer, when I was writing this fic, it took the me just over five months to do so. In that time, I kind of messed up on the timeline. It's not MAJOR but I only just realized it _now_ , since I've been editing through. Basically, Cas and Dean broke up a month after Dean moved in, which was at the end of October (when Dean's lease was up). So _technically_ , they broke up at the end of November. But something got muddled and I must have forgot and here we are. So NOW it's the end of November in the fic. I know it's not a huge deal, and we can just pretend they broke up a couple weeks into November or something instead. I just wanted to put a little disclaimer to let you know that I kind of fucked up there, before someone had to go and point it out haha!

Two weeks flew by and before Dean knew it, it was the almost the end of November. He was starting to feel more like himself each day. There were still moments where he missed Castiel like crazy—and was lonelier on those nights—but he pulled through. Work was hectic as ever. He was working twelve hour shifts most days; sometimes he’d have to work as much as fifteen. The split shifts were the longest days—those were hard shifts. He was up at 5:00 AM Thursday morning, at work by 6:00 AM, off shift by noon for three hours, and then was back at Sam’s by 10:30 PM.

He was nearly dead.

He rubbed his face as he walked into the house, and could hear Sam’s muffled laughter coming from the library. He honestly was too tired to be curious about what he was laughing about. He walked into his bathroom where he got into a much needed hot shower and tried to relax. He had to be awake at 5:00 AM the next morning, which (he knew) wasn’t fair, but that was how work was going for him. They were short an officer who left on maternity leave and Dean took up some of the extra hours. He was starting to really feel it though. Contemplated taking a sick day just to catch up on sleep. 

But he knew he couldn’t. 

Captain Kali Vale was a strict woman with good moral, had an impeccable quickdraw, and was apparently one of the top captains of the state. Garrison Falls was lucky to have her. She had the station on various leads regarding a major drug bust that was about to go down very soon. Dean wasn’t sure when, but he knew he wanted to be in on it. 

The water was hot against his back, dripping down his legs, and it ran over his head and eyes, pooling into his open mouth. He rubbed his hand along his shoulder, rubbing out the tense muscles that accumulated over his long shift sitting in his squad car. 

He stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, and then dried himself off. 

When he got out of the bathroom, Sam was still in the library on his computer. Dean only shook his head as he knew it wasn’t just work. He would have to investigate on one of his days off. He walked into his bedroom where he plopped himself down on his bed, plugged his phone in, and set an alarm for 5:00 AM. He checked the time and it was nearly 11:00 PM.

Dean sighed. 

He was grateful that he was tired enough that he was able to fall asleep within a few minutes. His mind fading in and out of consciousness and dreamworld. Castiel came in for a brief moment, and for that moment, Dean felt whole. He sighed as he rolled in his sleep, feeling Castiel’s arms wrap around him, and he was content. He cradled himself into Castiel’s neck and rested his head on his shoulder. Castiel’s hands ran up and down his back, which was something that Dean loved. He loved it when Cas made him feel safe and complete. 

 

He was jolted awake when his alarm went off. There was a lingering sadness when Dean realized that he woke up alone and without Castiel. But that was to be expected. He should really be used to it by now, but it was still hard for Dean not wake up without Castiel beside him. It was still unusual. 

He dragged himself out of his bed, pulling on some clothes before going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He walked out into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee and some breakfast. 

He paused when he heard Sam laughing. 

Dean walked into the library to see his brother sitting on the couch with his laptop in his lap, smiling like an idiot at the screen. 

“What are you doing?” Dean asked. Sam looked up and confusion crossed his face.

“Oh hey, Dean. When did you get home?”

“Uh, last night?” Dean paused. “Dude, it’s 5 AM. Why are you still awake?”

“Oh I’m just on Skype.” Sam looked down at the screen. “Hey, uh, I guess I should probably get going. I didn’t even realize what time it was.”

“Oh my god it’s 6 AM here!” a girl’s voice shrieked. “I have to go to work in like two hours!”

“Ugh that sucks. Have fun?” 

The girl scoffed. “I’m not you Sam, I can’t just decide that I don’t want to write anything today and take a break. Ugh. Well I guess I better get ready for work…”

“I’ll talk to you later, Jess. I hope you have a good day.”

“You too, Sam. Goodnight—or—good morning, I guess,” she laughed. 

Dean was still standing in the doorway, and was unable to see what she looked like, but she sounded nice. Sam ended the call shortly after their sweet goodbyes and Dean knew it was his moment to shine.

“Just your publisher, huh?”

Sam blushed. “Shut up, Dean.”

“When’s the wedding?” Dean teased. Oh this was good. Dean walked up to Sam and poked him. 

"Fuck off." Sam swatted his hand away. 

Dean barked out a laugh. "If I didn't have to leave for work you'd be _so_ getting the teasing of your life."

“Yeah? Well you can just go to work now." 

"Aww, is tired Sammy all grumpy?" 

"Seriously dude? I'm going to bed."

"You do that," Dean chuckled. 

Sam got off the couch and drug himself around Dean, shaking his head. 

 

Dean was still in a giddy mood when he got to work despite the lack of sleep he got. He might have slept well, but it wasn't enough for him. He would have to sleep for a whole day just to catch up. 

He parked the Impala in his spot and got out. 6:00 AM was bleak and cold. There was frost on the ground and Dean shivered, knowing that winter was coming soon. He pulled up his jacket collar and drudged through the wind and into the back of the station. 

Hannah was already there, in her uniform and ready, promptly, as she always was. Dean walked passed her and nodded in greeting as he walked to the men's change room. He got to his locker and took out his uniform. He turned when he heard footsteps and saw Cole walking out of the showers with a towel around his hips. 

"Winchester," he nodded at Dean. 

Dean suppressed an eye roll. He didn't care much for Cole. Especially after his last stunt that ended in their squad car getting into an accident. 

"Back so soon from suspension?" Dean asked as he pulled his shirt over his shoulders and buttoned it up. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cole replied, putting on a pair of boxers. Dean avoided looking in his general direction. 

"No? Didn't take a little leave of absence? Out of nowhere? Smells like suspension to me."

"I just took a few weeks off," Cole grunted as he pulled his uniform pants on. 

"Cut the crap, Trenton." Dean slammed his locker door shut. "You and I both know Vale should have fired your ass after what you did." He swallowed. "And you're not riding with me today, so you can forget it."

Cole huffed out a breath as Dean walked passed him and out to the parade room where he sat down next to Adam who was half falling asleep. Dean slapped his elbow and Adam jerked up. 

"What?"

"If Vale comes in seeing you half dead, she'll make you _full_ dead," Dean replied. A few other cops came in and sat down, waiting for parade to start. 

"I hate these shifts. How the fuck is this even legal? We weren't even off shift for eight hours."

“I know, it sucks. But we gotta do it. Part of the job. If you don't like it—”

"Yeah yeah, don't work the job. I know."

Dean shrugged his shoulders. 

Parade was to start at 6:30 AM every morning, having everyone out on the streets no later than 7:00. Detective Cain Knight walked into the parade room and stood next to the podium, waiting for Captain Vale to come in. His dark silver hair shined in the fluorescent lights and his steel blue eyes gleamed over the officers. 

Cole entered the parade room and sat down at a table (not Dean’s, thank god). Dean clenched his jaw but did nothing else. The guy really was a prick and he knew it. Liked to get under everyone’s skin. Unfortunately, Dean had been working alongside him since he moved to Garrison Falls. A few more officers came in; some stood by the door, others sat down. 

Captain Vale entered the room and all eyes were on her. She was a beautiful woman, but you wouldn’t be caught dead telling her that because she’d tear your ear off for having the audacity to tell her. Her dark hair was pulled tight into a bun, her white shirt pressed to perfection. 

“Good morning everyone,” her honeyed voice melted into the room. “I hope everyone is bright eyed and ready for another day.”

A few groans in reply. She smiled gently—that was her most powerful weapon. She would appear to be the nicest person in the room, with her smile and her voice, until she unleashed the wrath of her attitude that was only seen when you pissed her off. Dean was lucky to have not seen it personally, but knew of it from secondhand experience. 

“Now. As you all know, there is a major drug bust underway. We are hoping to have it wrapped up by tonight, depending on circumstances. We will commence the undercover positions after noon today.” She shuffled a few papers on the podium before speaking again. “I will pick a select few of you to accompany our own Detective Knight, along with Detective Amy Jones from the DEA. Detective Jones, would you say a few words?”

A blonde woman stood up from the front row wearing a sharp navy blazer and black trousers. She came up to the podium and stared everyone down, making everyone in the room feel small and insignificant. She held her hands behind her back, her stance almost military. When she spoke, though, her voice made her seem warm and inviting.

“I know this is a stressful time for everyone, so I’ll make this brief. We are looking for a white male, approximately 35 years of age, brown hair. His name is Ronald Edison. Everyone calls him Ronnie—especially the kids.”

“The kids?” Dean piped up. Detective Jones looked over at him and gave a strong nod. 

“Yes, that’s right. The kids. Ronnie runs a foster home for underprivileged kids. The ones old enough, he has running his drugs up and down the state border line, others he has running in town.”

Dean rose his eyebrows. 

“If you see any kids on the property, ignore them. Don’t engage with them. Our main goal is to get Ronnie, and then help the kids. If any of them run, try to stop them. They might tip Ronnie off if they’re loyal enough.”

Everyone nodded, but something didn’t sit right with Dean.

“What if they come to us for help? You can’t expect us to just leave them there,” he said.

“Try to get them to a secure location where you know they will be safe,” Jones replied. “Most of them will likely be gone, or too afraid to move. Some of these kids are as young as nine years old, and a lot of them haven’t been caught up with the police yet, so they’ll likely be too frightened to do anything.”

“But if they run, we have to chase them?”

“In case they tip Ronnie off, yes.”

“You don’t think us chasing them might cause more of a distraction for him to get away?”

She glanced down at his name tag.

“Listen, Winchester. These are our orders. Either you follow them, or you don’t come along. We’ve been watching Ronnie for a while now. We know his patterns, his schedules, his moves. Fridays mean business. If we’re lucky, we’ll catch him with as much product as we can, but it’s likely that he’ll already have some of his runners gone by the time we get there.”

“And we’re supposed to just let them run it?” 

She sighed at Dean’s frustration. 

“You have to understand that it’s sometimes hard to get the whole package. We have people stationed across the border to stop anyone from crossing tonight without a quick vehicle inspection. Ronnie stays in town to get the quick cash from the kids he has running here. We know what we’re doing, Winchester.”

Dean didn’t argue, only nodded and leaned back into his chair. 

“Thank you.”

Captain Vale took the podium again. 

“Thank you Detective Jones. Alright everyone. Those interested in coming along for the drug bust, come and see me and Detective Knight, and we will add you to the list. At noon we will pick those we find compatible with the job. You are dismissed.”

Everyone stood up. Those who were interested, went up to the front; those who weren’t, headed out. Dean glanced over at Adam. 

“You signing up for this?” he asked. 

“I don’t know. You?”

“Hell yeah. You should. I would rather have you by my side than Trenton.” Dean looked over and grimaced when he saw Cole in the line up. 

Adam shrugged and grabbed his water bottle off the table. 

“Winchester,” a voice called to him. Dean turned to see Detective Jones waving at him to come over.

Dean walked over with a nervous churn in his stomach, thinking that it was probably wrong of him to voice so many of his opinions during parade. 

“Amy Jones,” she said, holding out her hand.

“Dean Winchester, ma’am,” he replied, shaking her hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. 

“You always this vocal during parade?”

“Not usually, no. Nothing this exciting ever really happens in Garrison Falls,” he gave a short laugh. She nodded along, likely agreeing. 

“I want you on the team.”

Dean froze.

“What?”

“You're smart. I know you opposed most of the lineup for tonight’s bust, but I could use someone like you. Your insight is good, and Detective Knight says your instinct is even better.”

Dean nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“I’ll put you on the team, you’ll follow my orders. Briefing is at noon hour, so I’ll need you back here before then to get prepped and ready for the undercover shift.”

“When are we going under?” Dean asked.

“We’re hoping to get out by 7:00 PM.”

“What do I do in the meantime?” 

“Your job, Officer.”

“Okay.” Right.

“See you then, Winchester,” she said, turning her back and walking towards the door. 

Dean stepped back and turned to the board to see who he was riding with. He let out a sigh of relief when Adam’s name was beside his, along with the squad car they were assigned. He walked out of the parade room and made his way out back to the cars. Adam was already out there, waiting for him, and gave him a nod as he threw Dean the keys. 

Everyone knew Dean liked to drive. 

 

The first hour of the shift was pretty dry. Dean almost became the cliché cop and stopped for coffee (but no doughnuts), and sat in the squad car until they got a call. It was nearly 9:00 AM when dispatch came through on their radio, their squad car parked near the school (in hopes to catch anyone speeding in the school zone). Dean tried to ignore the fact that the first thing he looked for when they turned near the school was Castiel’s car, but he wouldn’t admit that. 

There was static before the woman on dispatch spoke.

“We received a domestic call at 8345 104th street, apartment 304. Possible gunshot. Is there a unit available to attend?”

Dean picked up the radio. 

“1036 responding.” 

“Proceed with caution.”

“Copy that.”

Dean flicked on the lights and siren and pulled out onto the road, watching out for other drivers and pedestrians. 

Dean turned off the siren as they drove down 104th street slowly, eyeing up the neighbourhood. They pulled up to 8345, an apartment complex on the corner. Adam got out with him and they walked up the sidewalk. There was a woman having a smoke on the front step of the apartment building. 

“Ma’am,” Dean nodded at her. She took another drag of her cigarette and stood up. 

“Need some help getting inside?” 

“If you would be so kind,” Dean replied. 

She glanced down at their guns and shrugged. She took out a set of keys from her pocket and unlocked the door to get inside. 

“304?” she asked. 

“You know anything?” 

“The usual. Been fighting all morning. I’m 303.”

“You made the call?”

She nodded.

“Right. Well. Just stay down here, okay? We’re gonna try and get everyone safe.”

She nodded again. 

There was a loud bang and a shriek that came from inside the building and Dean’s reflexes had him grabbing for his gun. Adam took his out as well and began to go up the stairwell. Dean followed and called dispatch on his radio. 

“Dispatch, this is 1036 requesting back up. Shots fired at 8345 104th street. I repeat, shots fired. Officer Milligan and I are proceeding through the building. Apartment 304 is the suspected location. 1036 requesting back up, requesting medics. 8345 104th street. Shots fired.” Dean let go of his radio and placed his hand on the butt of his gun. 

“All available units to 8345 104th street,” dispatch ordered. “Requesting ambulance on scene.”

The climbed the stairs two at a time.

“1034 and 1037 are on route. An ambulance is on its way,” dispatch called. 

Adam reached the third floor before him. A few people were looking out their doors and Dean motioned them to get back inside. When they reached 304, the door was shut. There was a man and a woman yelling back and forth. Dean took his fist and banged it on the door. 

“GFPD open up!” he shouted.

“Fuck off!” a man yelled back. 

“This is the police! Open the door or we will use force!” 

Dean waited a few seconds. 

He nodded at Adam, who was about to open the door. The woman inside started screaming. Dean pushed Adam aside and kicked the door open hard with his foot. He marched inside, gun at the ready, and Adam by his side. As Dean cleared the left, Adam cleared the right. 

Dean walked into what would be the living room (he couldn’t tell, the place was a mess) and saw a man holding a gun with his left hand, and a woman by the hair with his right. Her forehead was bleeding, and there was a cut on her lip. Her cheek was bruised and swollen. There were two bullet holes in the wall consistent with her height where the man had shot. The man had a few defensive scratches on his face and a bloody nose. 

“Put the gun down,” Dean ordered. 

The man glanced at him, but only held onto it tighter, and pulled on the woman’s hair more, making her cry out.

“Put the gun down, and let her go. Now.”

Dean stepped in closer. 

“Don’t fucking move,” the man gritted between his teeth. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll fucking shoot her.” 

Dean sighed with a husky breath. He saw Adam move in his peripherals, behind the man, who hadn’t seen him yet. Dean made no gestures to Adam, but kept his eyes and his gun on the man. The woman tried to get loose but the man only held her tighter. 

“I need you to let her go,” Dean said again. 

“No.”

“Why?” 

“Because she deserves this.” 

“You really think that? Wow. You’re more of a piece of shit than originally I thought.” Dean huffed out a breath. 

The man gave Dean a hard glare and pushed the woman against the wall, holding her throat, then turned to aim his gun at Dean. Dean’s stomach dropped. Dean could see Adam follow the man’s movements, staying out of his line of vision, gun at the ready. 

“Drop the gun!” Adam yelled. 

The man turned around, unsure of who to point at, when Dean holstered his gun, and lunged forward, grabbing the gun out of his hand, and quickly disassembled it, throwing it to the floor. Adam pushed the man up against the wall and placed his hands behind his back. 

Sirens wailed as Adam cuffed the guy. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Typical. They always show up right when the show’s over, ain’t that right?” 

He walked over to the woman who was shaken up. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Miss,” he assured her. He held out his hand to her and she took it, leaning into his touch. He wrapped his arms around her as she cried into his shoulder. He rubbed her arm gently. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll keep you safe.”

Hannah, Cole, Marvin, and Sarah came through door, armed. Adam had the man cuffed and was bringing him out as they walked in. 

“Don’t worry guys, we got it,” Adam scoffed at them. 

Dean sat down with the woman on the couch, and pulled out his notepad. Hannah and Sarah cleared the rest of the apartment (protocol) while Marvin and Cole walked out with Adam. Dean could hear Adam bitching at them for taking so long. 

“Okay,” Dean said, turning to the girl. “You don’t need to do this right away, if you’re uncomfortable, but we need to get your statement. We’re gonna bring you to the station where you’ll have to talk to a few other officers but for now, if it’s alright, I’d like to take your first statement.” 

She nodded, wiping her nose on her sweater sleeve. 

“I’ll start with the basics.” He paused, waiting for her queue. Another nod. “Okay. What’s your name?”

She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Meg. Megan Masters.”

“Okay, Meg. How old are you?”

“I’m 20.”

“And was that man your boyfriend? Husband? Brother?”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

Dean scratched down the information on his pad. 

“How long have you guys been dating?”

“A few years.” Dean nodded, writing more down. 

“Has he always been this violent?” He looked up at her. 

She looked down at her hands and shrugged.

“Meg, I need to know if this has been going on for a while, okay? Unless you don’t want to talk about it here, I can bring you back to the station.” 

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “It started with name calling about a year ago, and it—it just kept getting worse, I guess. And I know what you’re thinking.” She started to get worked up as she continued. “‘Why didn’t I report him?’ Well I tried. I wanted to. But it was hard. I was terrified what he would do if he found out…”

“Don't worry, he’s not gonna do that to you again, I promise.” Dean rested a hand on top of hers for reassurance, and she smiled softly in return. 

“Now,” Dean continued, “how did all of this start?”

She wiped her eyes. 

“I don’t know. The usual, I guess. He gets home after a night out drinking, and starts accusing me of stupid shit that I never did, and no matter what I say to convince him otherwise, _I’m_ in the wrong, and _I_ deserve to be smacked around.”

“I want you to know that you did nothing wrong, okay?” Dean replied softly. He waited for her to nod before he continued to write down her statement. “Did you know that he owned a gun?”

She shook her head. 

“No. I hadn’t seen it until this morning.”

“One hell of a morning.” Dean gave her a soft quirk of his lips.

She let out a small laugh as she nodded in agreement. 

“Do you know where he could have gotten the gun or anything like that?”

“He’s got a couple friends that live around the corner that he always hangs out with. But I don’t know if it’s them he got it from. Like I said, I’ve never seen it before.”

“Just one more question Meg, and then I’ll need you to come with me to the station to get you processed. Okay?”

She nodded. 

“Okay,” Dean said. “Have you ever reached out to someone before about this, a friend, family member? Does anyone else know about this?”

She paused, looking ashamed. 

“I haven’t told anyone. And I know that’s bad. I’m sure my friends have an idea but…I know I should have told someone. I was just—”

“Afraid, I understand. Okay. If you would like to accompany me to the station, I can get the paperwork set up for you to go through and you’ll be on your way in no time. We’ll just step downstairs and have the EMTs take a look at your head there, alright?”

“Okay.” She stood up with him and walked out the apartment and Dean lead her down the stairs. 

There were other officers outside the building, along with the ambulance they called for. Dean brought Meg over to the EMT waiting to assist her. She sat on the outside step of the ambulance where the EMT wrapped a shock blanket around her. The EMT put on latex gloves as he started examining her head injury. He wiped it with some disinfectant wipes, cleaning some of the dried blood away to get a better look at it. Dean did a double take as he recognized the EMT. 

“Aaron?” he asked. The man looked up at him.

“Dean? Dean Winchester?”

The man put down the wipes to give Dean a small hug. He took his gloves off to grab a new pair while Dean spoke.

“Dude, when the hell did you become an _EMT_?” 

Aaron smiled sheepishly. 

“I was never meant to be a cop, Dean. We both knew that. I was only pleasing my father. I got my EMT certificate a couple years ago. Moved here a few weeks ago.”

Aaron taped up the small cut on her forehead and then began to check her lip. He cleaned it off, but it otherwise, it was fine. He gently felt around her cheek for any broken bones. 

“That’s awesome,” Dean replied. 

“Yeah. When did you move here?” 

“Ah, about a year ago now. But dude, this is awesome! You like the job?”

Aaron smiled again, but this time it was with pride. “Yeah. I do. I really do. It’s great. Still a high stress job, but I feel like I’m actually helping people. Not that cops don’t but, this is more hands on, in my opinion.” 

“Yeah yeah, I get it. Well I’m glad you found your job. It suits you.” 

“Thanks, Dean.”

“Is she all good to go?” Dean pointed to Meg. 

“Yes, she is.” He spoke to Meg next, “Your cheek doesn’t feel like it’s broken, but it would be customary for you to get an x-ray, just to be certain.” 

Meg nodded as she stood up. 

“Thanks Aaron,” Dean said, shaking his hand once Aaron removed his glove. He started leading Meg to his squad car and he turned around. “We’ll have to go for a drink some time.” 

Aaron nodded, taking off his other glove. “That would be great, Dean.”

“See you around.” He gave Aaron a small wave and smiled. 

Dean brought Meg over to his car. Adam had taken the man under arrest with Hannah in her squad car. Other officers were speaking to residents of the building, getting statements. He opened the passenger door for her and waited for her to sit down. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Meg. I promise.” 

She smiled softly at him before glancing down and he shut the door. 

He got in the diver’s side and started the car. The drive back to the station was silent, only the static and beeps from the radio in the background. He pulled into the station, and parked in his stall. He brought Meg inside through booking and brought her into an interview room where it was quiet. He sat with her while she filled out forms and he filled out domestic abuse reports.

“Now,” Dean said. “If you need a lawyer, we can call someone to represent you if you feel you need to talk to one. You know, about your case against your boyfriend.”

She finished signing her name at the bottom of the page and handed it to Dean, who signed as a witness. 

“It’s okay. I don’t think I’ll press charges.” 

“W-wait what? You’re not gonna press charges? The man nearly _killed_ you.” 

“And it’s my life. You said he was going to be locked away right?”

“Well—yes, but only for possession of a unregistered weapon and assault—Meg, he might not even _get_ jail time! I told you he wouldn’t do this to you again because I thought you would testify. Meg—”

“I’m fine. Just go. It’s okay, I can handle it.” 

Dean sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. They sat in silence for a few moments before Dean spoke. 

“Okay. Fine.” 

He stood up and left the interview room. He was annoyed and tired. It was almost noon and Dean nearly forgot about the briefing in the parade room. He sighed again and walked up to the officer working reception. 

“Hey, uh. I got a girl in Interview Room 3, do you think you could have an officer escort her back to her place? I have to get to parade.”

“Sure thing, Officer Winchester.” 

“Thanks.”

Dean turned and walked over into the parade room just as they were getting started. 

“Officer Winchester. So good of you to join us,” Detective Jones said. Dean stood at the back of the room and nodded. 

“Alright everyone,” she continued. “Detective Knight and I, along with Captain Vale, have chosen a select few of you to come onto our task force. Don’t worry, nearly everyone will be on this tonight. We’ll need several of you to be on standby for backup should anything go awry. Now. The people we have chosen are: Officer Dean Winchester, first in command. Officer Cole Trenton, second in command. And Officers Adam Milligan, Sarah Barnes, and Hannah Paxton. You five, please come with me.”

Dean pushed himself off the wall with a scowl. Of _course_ Cole had to be on the team. He heard Knight speak to the other officers about their duties as standby officers as Jones brought them into her temporary office and sat down at her desk. 

“So. While Detective Knight is talking to the other officers out there about what they’re going to be doing, I’m gonna talk to you guys. Dean, we made you first in command, I hope that’s alright.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dean replied. 

“Good. The undercover position is easy enough. We basically need you to find a way to get to Ronnie’s house to buy the drugs. So I need you guys to look like you want to buy some.”

Everyone nodded. 

“The idea is,” she continued, “you lot will be looking to score some drugs. Normally, Ronnie doesn’t do any sales from his house; it’s just grab and go for the kids. But we’re going to give you a load of cash that he wouldn’t be able to resist. Once you’re inside, it’s takedown.”

“So we’re just supposed to knock on his door and go, ‘hey little boy, can we come in and buy some crack from your foster daddy?’” Dean sang out. 

Adam snickered. 

“Please tell me you have more common sense than that,” Jones countered. Dean scoffed. 

“Seriously though,” Dean replied. “How are we supposed to get into the house when he doesn’t sell from there?”

“It’s up to you to figure it out, First Commander.”

Dean made a face, but nodded. 

“You have your three hours to rest up before coming back on shift. I need you out of uniform by 5:00 PM, in your new identities by 6:00, and we need to be on the move by 7:00. Everything clear?”

Everyone nodded.

“Dismissed.”

 

Dean walked into the house, remembering that Sam would likely still be asleep, so he was as quiet as he could be. He ate some lunch and then took a two hour nap in his bedroom. He passed out instantly. If it wasn’t for his alarm on his phone, he probably wouldn’t have woken up for a long time. 

When he got out of bed for the second time that day, he felt a little better. He was still tired, but nothing a little coffee won’t fix. Sam was just getting up when he walked into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Sam said.

“Morning, princess.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You making coffee by any chance?”

“Yep. You want some?”

“Please.”

Sam sat at the kitchen table and rubbed his eyes. 

“So,” Dean started. “When were you going to tell me about Jess?”

Sam sighed. “I don’t know. Soon, I guess? I didn’t know if it was going to become anything serious so I didn’t want to say anything in case it didn’t. No sense getting excited over nothing, right?”

“But she _is_ your publisher, right? Or was that a lie?” Dean stood by the Keurig machine and waited for his cup to finish pouring.

“No, she is. It’s how we met,” Sam confessed. “I met her when I signed with them. It started off professional, and then the more we talked, the more it just sort of turned into something else. I don’t know.”

“Have you seen her since you signed?” Dean took a small sip from his coffee and set a new pod inside the machine and placed Sam’s cup underneath. 

“Once. But that was for a meeting, and it was long before things started to…change.”

“So it’s serious then?”

“I don’t know. I want it to be. But she’s all the way in New York, Dean.”

“So? Make it work.”

“Like you’re making it work?” 

Dean shot a glare at his brother.

“Cas and I are over, Sam. There’s nothing to work out.”

Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Dean—”

“Sammy, please. I don’t want to talk about how I’m not fixing things with him, when there’s really nothing to fix. Now you should go see Jess. Get on a plane. Get out of here. Make it work. I can’t do anything with Cas.”

Dean brought their cups over to the table and sat next to Sam. Sam tried to look understanding but instead changed the subject.

“So you work tonight, right?”

“Yeah, we got this drug bust underway, so some of us are going undercover,” Dean replied.

“Is it serious?”

“It’s pretty big, yeah.”

Sam rose his eyebrows. “Well I hope it goes well.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

They sipped their coffees in silence until Dean had to leave. He packed some clothes to change into at work, different shirts and sweaters to choose from that would make him look the most like a crack addict—he felt weird about it. 

He said goodbye to Sam as he walked out the front door and got into his car. He arrived back at the station feeling more awake now that the caffeine was kicking in. Him and Adam took the squad car out for a couple more hours before they had to get ready for their undercover shift. They drove up and down the streets, making themselves present. Dean spotted a couple kids spray painting the side of Ellen’s restaurant, stopping the car to run after them, but they were long gone by the time Dean was able to get out of the squad car. He was out of breath and angry. Adam only laughed and shook his head. 

They arrived back at the station just before 5:00 PM. As soon as he was inside, Dean went to the men’s change room to get changed. He got into his oldest pair of jeans, that were ripped, stained, and worn out. They were big on him because he had lost a little weight since the last time he’d worn them. He fed a belt through the loops and secured his pants up. He put on on a oil-stained tank top and then strapped his shoulder holsters on. He pulled on a baggy hoodie that was ratty and had a couple holes in the sleeves. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he was impressed. He changed his shoes into a pair of old sneakers that he had buried in his locker. He went to the sink and ran water to wipe some of the hair pomade out of his hair, then messed it up a little. 

When he stepped into the parade room, everyone looked impressed by his transformation. Adam looked good too. Cole looked like he was trying too hard, which worried Dean. He didn’t want them to get busted for looking like they didn’t belong. The girls put on their best hooker outfits and Dean had to admit, if he was straight, they’d look pretty damn hot. 

Captain Vale came into the room and addressed them, formally, that they were all fine officers, and she thanked them for signing up to assist the detectives. The remaining officers were out canvasing the area and getting into position. When she finished, Detective Jones took over. She went over, again, what their plan was. She commented on their appearance and said they would fit right in. She said they would leave in about an hour, so everyone would have time to eat something before heading out.

While everyone was leaving the parade room, Captain Vale pulled Dean aside. 

“I wanted you to know that I think this is a good opportunity for you, Dean,” she told him. “And I also want you to know that I put your name in for the Detective position that’s opened up. If tonight goes well, you can bet on getting your badge.”

Dean was speechless. He couldn’t form a proper sentence, until after he stuttered out words. 

“Wow, thank you,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Really, though? Me?”

“You’re a fine officer, Dean. And if you plan on sticking around, I would like to make you detective. Is that something you would want?”

“Uh, yeah—yes. Yes, ma’am. I would.”

“Good,” she replied. “I’ll let you take your break.”

Dean nodded and left the parade room. He walked into the staff kitchen and grabbed his packed dinner from the fridge. He quickly ate and discussed the plan some more with Adam and Hannah. Cole was apparently in the gym getting himself “amped” up for the job. 

Dean had to admit that he had never been more nervous in his life. Maybe on his first date with Castiel—but that was a different kind of nervous. He laughed along with his fellow officers, but on the inside he was starting to panic.

He couldn’t do this. What was he thinking? 

Dean didn’t ever think of getting offered the Detective’s badge, and it was something he aspired to have one day, but now that it was within his reach, he wasn’t sure that he was ready for it. 

 

Before they left, Dean was given an old beat up red Honda civic that was rusting around the handles and hub caps, as his undercover car. He took Adam and Hannah with him. Cole got a ’97 Chevy truck and Sarah in the passenger seat. Dean pulled out of impound with his colleagues, followed shortly by Cole and Sarah. 

Ronnie’s address was in the slums of town, not far from the call they got this morning. It was 7:21 PM when they pulled up to the curb a few blocks from his house. Dean got out first, pulling his hood up. The earpiece he wore was bothering him but he ignored it. The mic he wore was disguised as a watch. The girls wore them as bracelets. 

The girls were there as their backup; to stand on the corner and convey messages back and forth with Jones and Knight, and stay in contact with dispatch. The undercover van was parked on the other side of the street and looked like it belonged to a cleaning company. Dean knew there were officers stationed on the corners of each block in ghost cars, waiting for takedown. It was dark, and cold. There was frost building on the ground and Dean felt sorry for the girls wearing next to nothing. 

Dean walked around the car to where Adam was standing on the sidewalk. 

“You ready?” he asked, bundling himself in his sweater. 

“I think so. It should be easy, right? Just get in and get Edison.”

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” Dean said nervously. 

“Are we going or what!” Cole called from the other side of the street, already making his way towards the house. His voice carried throughout the neighbourhood.

“Trenton, you wait on my orders!” Dean barked back with a hushed yell. He turned to Adam and gestured him to get moving. He nodded at Sarah and Hannah who relayed to dispatch that they were on the move. 

Dean and Adam caught up to Cole and they made their way down the street. 

“Cole, just because Vale made you second in command, doesn’t mean you get to go against my orders,” Dean snapped at him. “We need to get this right. You listen to me or I’m sending your ass back to the van and Adam will take your place.”

That shut him up quick. 

Dean took the lead and they walked down the sidewalk until they reached Ronnie’s house. 

“So how are we gonna get in again?” Adam asked, looking up the sidewalk that led to the front door. 

“He’s gonna let us in.”

 

Dean knocked on the door. Cole went around the house to guard the back exit. Adam stood by his side, trying not to look nervous. Dean wondered what he own face looked like. He knocked again and flinched when he saw a shadow move behind the frosted window. Dogs barked down the street. 

A young girl opened the door. Her face was round, her eyes bright blue. Her hair was blonde and had two braids on one side of her head starting at her temple. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen. 

Dean swallowed. 

“Uhm, hey,” he said. “Is Ronnie around?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m asking.” She raised her eyebrows at his tone. He lowered his voice. “We’re looking to score something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the girl replied. 

“Is he here? Can we talk to him?”

“Ronnie’s out right now.”

Dean almost flinched when Cole started talking in his ear. 

“No, he’s here alright. I got eyes on him through the basement window,” Cole breathed. 

“We can wait for him.” Dean smiled. 

Adam nodded quickly. Dean had to admit, the nervousness of the guy made him look more like a junky and less like a cop that was trying not to get caught. 

The girl glanced at Adam, and then back at Dean. 

“I’m not supposed to let anyone Ronnie doesn’t know inside the house. You know, _stranger danger_.” 

Dean fumbled with the wad of cash in the front pocket of his hoodie. 

“Would uh, this,” he held it up showing off the $10,000 in the porch light. “change your mind?” 

She eyed the money like it was made of candy, but made no expression. 

“I’ll call him. You wait here.”

“Do you think we could at least stand inside? It’s a little cold,” Dean huffed out a small laugh. It was cold. He could see his breath come out in small puffs. 

She paused for a moment, thinking.

“Fine.” She opened the door and gestured them inside. 

Hannah’s voice was in Dean’s ear as he heard her telling dispatch they made it inside the house.

“Good work boys,” Dean heard Jones say. 

The girl brought them into the kitchen and told them they could sit at the table. The house was a mess. Dirty dishes were strewn across the countertops, garbage everywhere. It was a dump. Dean tried not to let his OCD show. He was supposed to be a junkie. Junkie’s don’t get grossed out by this sort of thing, right? Adam sat on the other end of the small table. The girl pulled out her phone and started texting frantically. Dean heard a TV show off in the living room and noticed two boys sitting on the couch. They had to be at least six and seven years old.

Dean shot a look at Adam, who looked more nervous now that they were in the house. 

Dean looked down at his “watch” (which did actually tell the correct time), and pretended to look at it like he was setting something. He waited until the girl turned her back and said, “Eyes?”

Sarah was the first to speak, “All good on my corner.”

Hannah, “I’ve got a truck that keeps driving up and down the street. Could be one of Edison’s kids.”

Cole, “I still have eyes on Edison. He’s looking at his phone right now.” 

“What did you say?” the girl turned around and asked. 

“What? Nothing, I was clearing my throat,” Dean coughed. 

She eyed him up but went back to her phone. 

“Dean,” Adam whispered. Dean looked at him, and saw him point to the girl’s back pocket. 

The girl was carrying. Dean looked back at Adam and swallowed. 

“So,” Dean said, “how long till Ronnie gets here? ‘Cause we’d really like our stuff, y’know.” 

The girl started pacing, glancing at her phone every few seconds. 

Dean looked back at Adam who was nodding at the gun in her back pocket. Dean widened his eyes and made a face that said “we can’t do anything until she draws” but Adam read it wrong and started to put his hand under his sweater. 

The girl must have noticed their exchange and sharply turned around. She pulled out the gun and aimed it at Adam. Damn, she was good. 

“Don’t fucking move.” That was twice Dean heard that today. 

“Woah, woah. Hey, you don’t need to do that, hey,” Dean said to her. She turned and pointed the gun at him. 

Dean put his arms up in front of him.

“What are you, cops? What are you doing here? What do you want?”

“We’re not cops, we’re not here to do anything. We’re just here for our shit,” Dean tried to convince her.

“You’re fucking cops. I knew it.” She stepped closer to Dean. 

“Hey, listen. What’s your name? My name’s Dean. It’s okay. Just put the gun down.” He was breathing rapidly as his heart raced. 

“What’s your name?” Dean asked again, calmly.

“Why does that matter?”

“Because. What’s your name?” 

“It’s Claire.”

“Claire. I need you to put the gun down.” 

“Are you a cop?”

Dean sighed. 

“Dean,” Adam said, warningly. 

“Don’t talk!” Claire yelled at Adam, pointing the gun back at him.

“Hey, Claire. Don’t point the gun at him. Point it at me. There we go. That’s better.” 

Claire had the gun back on him. 

“We’re just looking for Ronnie,” Dean told her.

“Why? I’ve never seen you around before. You don’t look like someone from this part of town.”

“We just need to see Ronnie.”

“Yeah, well that’s not gonna happen.” 

Cole started talking in his ear.

“Dean, I lost visual on Ronnie, I can’t see him.”

“Don't do anything,” Dean said. It worked to say it out loud, because Cole knew Dean was talking to him, and Claire thought he was talking to her. 

“Dean, I don’t have eyes on Ronnie, I need to engage some sort of diversion. He might be on his way up to you guys. I don’t know if he’s armed.”

Dean couldn’t say anything this time without making it look obvious that he wasn’t talking to Claire. He glanced at Adam, who was looking more anxious by the minute. 

“Claire,” Dean said. “What are you doing working for a guy like Ronnie?”

Claire didn’t say anything, but only gripped the gun tighter. 

“Do you _really_ feel safe here?” 

Nothing.

“What has Ronnie even done for you?”

“He’s given me a home when I’ve had nowhere else to go,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “He’s family.”

Dean sighed.

“I get it. Claire, I do. I’ve got a brother. My parents died when he was eleven. I had to take care of him. I did everything for him. Hell, I stole. I stole all the time to make sure he was fed. Now he’s off and doing great things. And I’m still here. Trying to make ends meet. What are _you_ doing, Claire? Ronnie isn’t going to take care of you like I did my baby brother. He may seem like family to you, but he’s just using you to get what he wants. And that ain’t family.”

Claire faltered, letting her tears fall.

“Just put the gun down. We can figure this out. Everything will be okay.” Dean held out his hand, hoping she would hand it to him. 

She started to lower it. 

There was a crash somewhere off in the house and a gunshot. Dean’s vision went white and his ears were ringing to the point where he instantly felt nauseous. When he came to, he found himself down on the floor, his left side searing with pain where the bullet had entered, feeling shattered bone. Blood started to gush out. He sucked in a huge breath as panic started to induce. He coughed, breath raspy. He applied pressure to the wound, wincing, and the blood poured over his hand. Adam was on top of Claire, pinning her down as she screamed out. The gun was on the floor, out of her reach. Dean's ears echoed with her screams, along with Adam's exclamations. 

“Shots fired! We need back up! Everyone get the _fuck_ in here!” Adam yelled out. “Officer down! W-we have an Officer down! _Fuck_!”

Dean stood up slowly. 

“Dean, I need you to stay on the floor, okay buddy? Just stay down,” Adam told him, fumbling with this handcuffs as Claire struggled beneath him. 

“I’m fine, we need to get these kids out of here. Get off of her.” 

“Dean, I’m bringing her in.”

“She didn’t do anything wrong, get off her.” Dean stumbled towards the living room, his breathing was starting to become more laboured. The blood ran dripped off his hand that pressed against the wound, hot and bright. He made staggered noises as the pain ripped through him. 

“She fucking _shot_ you, Dean.” Dean didn't listen. 

"You kids!" he yelled at the boys who were now hiding behind the couch. "Get out of here! Get outside, now!"

The boys jumped off the couch and ran frantically around Dean, their faces terrified. 

Just then, Cole came into the kitchen from the basement. “I got Edison! You’re gonna want to see what’s down there.” He stopped when he saw Dean, looking down at the blood dripping on the floor. “Woah! What the fuck happened?!”

“Your bold decision to move in without order got Dean shot! Now get Edison out of here!” Adam yelled. “And get me the medics!”

Ronnie was in handcuffs. Claire was crying out to him.

“I’m sorry Ronnie! I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.” She wailed as Adam started to handcuff her. 

“ _Get him out of here_!” Dean ordered, his voice booming. There was so much noise. But Dean couldn't hear anything, it had all became static, white noise. Dean pressed his hand further in his side, leaning against the wall. Cold sweat started to drip down his face. Cole shoved Ronnie out the front entrance.

Dean’s breathing started to become shallow. He coughed and he could feel something rising in his throat and he tried not to gag. He coughed again and blood splat out, the frothy copper sharp on his tongue. He tried to cover his mouth with his other hand, but only made more of a mess when he coughed again. 

Other officers were coming inside the house and going into the basement. Dean was still holding onto his side. Claire was still crying. 

“Can someone get a medic in here _now_?! I have an officer down!” Adam shrieked at dispatch. 

“I’m fine, Adam. It’s okay.” He coughed blood up again. It dripped down his chin, and started to coagulate in a thick mess. 

“Dean, you are not—you are _not_ fine. Y-you need to sit down. Sit down now, you're losing a lot of blood and—and we need to try to stop it.” Adam swallowed, pointing on the ground. He was pale, and shaking.

Dean started to walk back towards Adam, losing his balance and falling to the floor. He landed on his left side, his ribs piercing him inside. He yelled out in pain, and sucked in a breath, gasping when he couldn't find room for more air, the blood gurgled in his throat. Adam finished handcuffing Claire, and he pulled her up, handing her off to another officer that came in. 

“Take her in,” he commanded. He kneeled down next to Dean and turned him on his back, pressing down on his stomach. 

“Agh!” Dean cried out, coughing some more. He couldn't breathe. He inhaled short, staggered breaths, trying to find air. 

“I’m sorry Dean. I-I need to put more pressure on this. You’re losing a _lot_ of blood.”

“It’s not that bad,” he winced. “Ah!”

Adam had a closer look at the wound and when Dean coughed, blood sprayed out of the bullet hole, and more blood came out of Dean's mouth. 

“Shit, it's your lung. Oh God. We need to get you to the hospital right now!”

Dean’s vision started to blur again and he shook his head, squinting his eyes. Dean grabbed at Adam's sweater, as he tried to pull himself up, the blood on his hands staining the fabric. Dean's sweater clung to his body, the blood making it stick against the wound. It pulled at his skin as he tried to sit up. He became dizzy, the world going fuzzy. Dean let go and his body crashed back to the floor. 

“Yeah, we need to get you out of here. _Now_.” Adam spoke to dispatch next. “Where the fuck are the medics?!” 

Dean's heart was racing. He couldn't breathe. He could barely see.

He thought of Cas, how he'd never see him again. He was going to die, and he was never going to tell Castiel how much he loved him. The pain that slashed trough him had nothing to do with the bullet wound. His eyes welled up as he choked on his own frothy blood. 

“Dean? Hey, buddy. I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay? It's gonna be okay. Open your eyes, Dean." Adam pushed harder into his side, and Dean cried out in pain. 

When Dean opened his eyes, Castiel was standing above him, holding his face. He blinked.

"Cas?" Dean asked. Adam looked down at him.

Everything started to fade. 

“Dean!”


	17. Out With a Bang — Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the comments!!
> 
> This will probably be the only chapter I'll upload today. I was supposed to go to uni this morning but I woke up sick and I've been in bed all day. But I couldn't just leave you all hanging! 
> 
> This chapter switches from Dean to Cas :)

Dean’s ears were ringing. There was so much noise. Sirens wailed.

“His blood pressure is dropping,” a woman’s voice said.

"What's it at?” asked a man.

“40/49 and dropping.”

He felt pressure on his finger, it throbbed in time with the beeping noise—the heart monitor. It was uncomfortable and he tried to shake it off, but it was taped to his finger. He winced when he felt a sharp sting in his arm as the EMT inserted an IV. 

He was in so much pain. 

His eyes opened for a brief moment, the lights bright. Then there was muted darkness behind his eyelids.

“His eyes are hardly reacting to the penlight.”

Dean couldn’t breathe. He needed to get out of here.

“Mr. Winchester, I need you to stay down.”

There was pressure on top of him, he couldn’t move. Were those straps? He couldn’t tell. He coughed harshly, crying out in pain and tasting blood, it stuck to his throat and made him want to vomit. He tried to look around him, but everything was too bright to make out. 

He couldn’t breathe, no matter how much air he sucked in, it wasn’t enough. He was starting to panic. Everything was blurry, fuzzy. He tried to fight it, but it was winning—against his will to live. The noise was staggeringly loud. The constant beeping that echoed in his head. Suddenly, a mask covered his face; oxygen flowed through, but every breath he took was a struggle; it wasn’t enough. He was starting to fade. 

“Dean, stay with me buddy. You can do it!” 

“We’re losing him!”

“Dean!”

Then there was darkness. 

—————————————

Dean stirred in his bed. The light from the window was grey. Dean strained his ears and smiled. Rain. He turned over and nuzzled up to Castiel, sighing into his neck. Castiel shifted so that Dean could get closer, and wrapped his arms around him. 

“What time is it?” Castiel mumbled, and then yawned. 

“I don’t care. It’s Saturday,” Dean replied. “And it’s raining. _There ain’t no need to go outside…But BABY!_ ”

Dean started to sing out the song that had become theirs and Castiel laughed, pulling Dean closer and kissing his temple.

They laid in bed for a little while longer until Dean decided it was time to get up. 

“Banana pancakes are in order!” Dean got out of bed and grabbed a shirt, pulling it over. He was too lazy to put pants on so he decided to stay in his boxers. Dean glanced over at Castiel, who was still lying in bed, with an elbow propping up his body, and staring at him. “What?”

Castiel smiled, looking down. Was he blushing? “Nothing. I—Nothing.”

“C’mon, Cas. Spit it out,” Dean teased. He crawled up the bed and hovered above Castiel, kissing his neck, and then his mouth, not caring about morning breath. Castiel let out a soft sigh, which Dean loved hearing. He slowly pulled away, smiling against Castiel’s mouth. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Oh, I don’t know…” Castiel tried to advert the conversation, and flirted, looking up at Dean through his lashes. “You seemed to have distracted me.”

“How could I have possibly done that?” Dean joked, running his hand down Castiel’s chest. Castiel shivered. “Hmm?”

“I…I,” Castiel lost his sentence. Dean smirked. He positioned himself a little better so that he was laying beside Castiel, mouthing at his neck as he skirted his hand underneath the blankets, toying with the band of Castiel’s boxers. “Dean…”

“What’s that, baby?”

Castiel sighed when Dean slipped his hand beneath and stroked his cock. 

“Hmm?” Dean teased. “You got something to say, sugar?” 

Dean kissed Castiel’s slack, open mouth, biting his lower lip and sucking it in between his lips. Castiel arched his back when Dean tightened his grip. 

Dean stroked his boyfriend until he came, hot and heavy, under his boxers. Castiel turned and sighed into Dean’s mouth, kissing him deeply. Castiel pulled back.

“I love you,” Castiel said abruptly.

“Wh-what?”

“That’s what I wanted to say. So, there. I said it.” Castiel starting to move backwards, shy of what Dean’s response would be, but Dean wasn’t going to let him slip away. He pulled Castiel in for a breathtaking kiss, making a pleasing sound when Castiel’s hand slipped beneath his boxers. 

 

It was almost dreamlike. 

There was a hazy glow that seemed to attach itself to the light that came in. At first Dean thought it was just his eyes, but the more he looked at it, the less real everything became. He slowly detached himself from Castiel, who had his arms wrapped around him, post-coital, and stood up to look outside.

There was nothing. It was just a glow. Castiel’s bedroom window usually faced the trees lining the highway, but there were no trees, and no highway. It was just a soft off-white glow. 

“Dean,” Castiel said. 

Dean turned to find Castiel completely dressed, standing behind him. When did Castiel get up? He was half-naked in bed a few seconds ago.

“What’s going on?” Dean asked. He looked down, and he was wearing his police uniform. He was bleeding. He looked back up at Castiel. 

“You’re dying, Dean,” Castiel replied, walking up to him. 

“What?” Dean looked down at his body again, pressing a hand against his abdomen. 

He felt nothing. He could barely feel Castiel’s hand as it stroked his face. 

When Dean pulled his hand away from his stomach, it was clean—despite the blood that seeped through his uniform shirt, the bullet hole leaking. 

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“You need to wake up, Dean.” 

“What?” Dean looked around the room that was slowly disappearing around him. Castiel started to fade, the room going dark.

“Dean, you have to wake up!”

“Cas?!” 

“WAKE UP!”

 

A jolt of heat blazed through Dean’s chest. 

He sucked in a huge breath. His eyes opened and everything was bright, yet blurry with tears.

_Fuck_ , his chest hurt. 

He was strapped to something. He couldn’t remember what happened, or where he was, or what was even going on. 

He looked around. Was that Aaron?

“Hey buddy, we got you,” he said. “We’re almost at the hospital. Don’t worry, everything is going to be fine. Can you keep your eyes open for me, Dean? I need you to keep your eyes open.”

Dean swallowed. He coughed and whimpered in pain, his oxygen mask turned red as blood splattered inside, only causing him to panic more.

The ambulance started to slow down.

“We’re almost there, Dean.”

When the ambulance had come to a complete stop, Aaron got up and opened the door and the other EMT helped pull the gurney out. Dean cried out when the gurney wheels hit the ground, making his body jolt. 

He was brought into emergency where Aaron pulled him into a room. 

“We’re prepping you for surgery now, Dean. Okay? They’re going to take the bullet out and patch you up. You’re gonna go under, you won’t feel a thing. Everything will be okay.”

There were nurses surrounding him, pushing and pulling. They hooked him up to a heart monitor, and switched out his IV bag, hazily watching as they injected something into it. They took off his oxygen mask to replace it with a clean one.

“You’re about to go under, Mr. Winchester. Count to ten and you should be asleep by then, okay?” a nurse told him. 

Okay. He could count. 

One.

Two.

Three..

Four….

Five…..

 

Dean sucked in a breath when he woke up, slowly moving his eyes around. He was in a room. But he didn’t know where. He couldn’t move his neck much; there was something in his throat. He tried to swallow around it, but that only made things worse. He started to panic when he realized he couldn’t breathe—only he could breathe, but everything felt weird, constricted. Somebody came up beside his bed.

Sam?

He was talking, but Dean couldn’t hear him. Everything was muffled. He squinted his eyes, trying to read his brother’s lips, but Sam turned, and left the room. Soon a nurse came in and checked his vitals. She shone a light in his eyes and scratched things down on her chart. 

Dean tried to speak, but it was no good, it only came out as a broken whimper, the tube in his throat inhibited him from saying anything. It was the most uncomfortable feeling of his life, next to being shot. No, this was almost worse than being shot.

The nurse moved just out of his field of view and moments later, Dean felt his pain subside. He settled into the hospital bed as he relaxed. He saw her talking to Sam, who was on the phone, and she nodded. She turned and gave him something else, but Dean wasn’t sure what, because he was soon drifting off, the low lights of the dark room fading out. 

—————————————  
_Castiel_

It was nearly 2:00 AM when Castiel's phone rang. He ignored it without looking, thinking it was his alarm. When he squinted his eyes open, he could tell it wasn't 5:00. He grabbed at his phone and opened it. 

_7 text messages_ from Sam Winchester.

_4 missed calls_ from Sam Winchester. 

_1 voicemail._

He scrolled through the texts. 

**Sam Winchester** : Hey Cas, I need you to call me as soon as you get this.  
(11:29 PM)

**Sam Winchester** : You there?  
(11:35 PM)

**Sam Winchester** : Cas it's important, it's about Dean. I need you to call me.  
(11:43 PM)

**Sam Winchester** : I'm at the hospital right now with Dean.  
(11:58 PM)

Castiel sucked in a breath and read faster, heart starting to race. 

**Sam Winchester** r: Call me please.  
(12:34 AM)

**Sam Winchester** : Dean is in the hospital. Call me.  
(12:35 AM)

**Sam Winchester** : He needs you.  
(1:20 AM) 

He looked at the call history. 

_**SAM WINCHESTER Missed Call**_  
(11:38 PM)

_**SAM WINCHESTER Missed Call**_  
(12:43 AM) 

_**SAM WINCHESTER Missed Call**_  
(1:50 AM)

_**SAM WINCHESTER Missed Call**_  
(1:51 AM)

The thing with his phone is, it remained silent unless he got two phone calls within minutes of each other—primarily for emergencies.

He opened the voice message. 

"Hey, Cas," Sam's warm voice said. But it wasn't his usual voice. It was strained, and thick, like he had been crying. "It's Sam. Uh, it's like 1:50, I know it's late, I'm sorry. I'm at the hospital right now." He let out a shaky breath. "Dean was shot on duty tonight."

Castiel's stomach dropped. His blood ran cold. He could hardly feel his fingers and the phone nearly slipped through them. He tried to focus on what Sam was saying. 

"I know you guys are over. It's just—" he sighed. "I know Dean isn't over you. He just got out of surgery a couple hours ago. I thought I should at least try to get you over here. He's sleeping now. Anyways, I'll be here."

The line went dead. 

Castiel started to hyperventilate. He sat up and tried to control himself. This couldn't be happening. 

Not again. 

Tears welled in his eyes as he thought of Balthazar. 

He swallowed and stood up, legs shaking. He walked to his closet to grab some clothes, pulling on the first pair of pants he found, and a tee shirt. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and hustled out the door. 

He could barely see through all the tears. 

He got inside his car, pulling out of the garage, and nearly forgetting to close it the door. He pulled out of his driveway and sped down the highway, not caring if he got pulled over. He needed to be there for Dean. He needed to be there _now_. 

 

Castiel pulled into the hospital parking lot at 2:21 AM. He rushed through the emergency entrance, and up to the desk where he asked for Dean. ICU, fifth floor. Intensive Care. Castiel swallowed and rushed to the elevator, pushing the button more times than necessary. He waited impatiently, fingers tapping at his sides. 

When the elevator doors opened, he rushed through, and pressed the fifth floor button. He tried to calm himself down but it was no good; he was hysterical. The mirrors that lined the elevator walls showed his hair disheveled and his shirt backwards _and_ inside out. He sighed and quickly fixed it, pulling it off, and then back on again. The elevator lurched to a stop and he quickly walked out and up to the desk where he asked for Dean's room number. 

"Visiting hours aren't until 10 AM," the nurse told him. 

"I need to see him. I’m…I’m his—”

"He's with me." Castiel turned around to see Sam walking up to him. He'd never been more happy to see Dean's brother.

Sam came up and hugged Castiel, and Castiel held tight, trying not to cry. 

When they parted, the nurse complied and let Castiel go with Sam. 

"He's still sleeping," Sam told him as he opened the door. 

What Castiel saw nearly had him falling to the floor. 

Thick tubes were coming out of Dean's mouth, IV bags were hung beside his bed. The heart monitor beeped at a steady rate, which was probably the only thing keeping Castiel sane. Dean's chest rose and fell slowly, laboured, and aided by the machines. 

Castiel couldn't stop the pain. It was all too familiar—only Balthazar never made it to the hospital. He sat in the chair next to the bed. Sam sat in the other chair on the opposite side of the room. Castiel was only half listening to Sam, but he heard something about a blood transfusion and surgery taking nearly three hours. He died, once. 

"What?" Castiel took his gaze off Dean for a moment to look at Sam. 

"In the ambulance. His heart stopped. The EMT's had to resuscitate him."

Castiel tried to stop his tears but they rolled down his cheeks. He looked back at Dean as he grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. How he missed the feeling of his soft hands. He rubbed Dean’s hand gently, hoping for some form of reaction. 

There was nothing. 

"What happened? When he got shot?" Castiel asked, swallowing his tears away. He looked back at Sam. 

"I dunno. The nurses told me that the bullet entered his abdominal cavity, broke a couple ribs. One of his ribs punctured his left lung, hence all—this.” He waved his hand at the machine helping Dean breathe. "He lost a lot of blood."

“Is he going to be okay?” Castiel asked. 

Sam faltered. “Uh—I don’t know. I mean—he’s stable for now, but you never know. The doctor who performed the surgery said it went okay. He’ll pull through, Cas. I know he will.”

Sam’s reassurance made Castiel feel a little better. Sam cleared his throat.

“Hey, uh, I’m beat. I was thinking about heading back to my place to get some sleep. You want to come crash at my place?”

Castiel stared at Dean. 

“No,” he answered. “I think I’ll stay here.”

Sam yawned as he stood up.

“Okay. I’ll be back in the morning. I just need a few hours to sleep.” He walked around the bed, towards the door. “You sure you don’t want to come stay at my place? It’ll save you a drive home.”

“Thank you, Sam. But I want to be here when Dean wakes up.” Castiel softy brushed the back of Dean’s hand with the pad of his thumb. 

“Okay. I’ll see you later then.” Sam opened the door and gave Castiel a small wave before he left, shutting the door behind him.

All that was left was the soft hums of the machine, and the beeping of the heart monitor. Castiel was exhausted. He sighed. He shuffled his chair closer to the bed and leaned back, resting his head on the back of the chair. Soon he was drifting off to the sound of Dean breathing, his arm outstretched to reach Dean's hand. 

—————————————

Castiel woke when his 5:00 AM alarm went off. He quickly shut it off, minding Dean. Their hands were still held together, and Dean was still asleep. He texted Gabriel, knowing he would be awake soon. 

**Castiel** : Do you think you can find me a substitute for today? Dean is in the hospital and I can't be bothered to deal with anything right now.  
(5:04 AM) 

He put his phone down on his lap and sighed. He gently rubbed the back of Dean's hand. He watched as the machine pumped air into Dean's lungs. He rubbed his face with his free hand, tired as ever, but now he was awake. 

His phone buzzed a few moments later and he opened it to find a text from Gabriel. 

**Gabriel** : What happened??  
(5:23 AM) 

**Gabriel** : I'll see what I can do about a sub. If anything I can cover your classes during my prep blocks.  
(5:23 AM)

**Castiel** : Dean was shot on duty last night. It's bad, Gabriel.  
(5:24 AM)

**Gabriel** : Holy fuck, Cas do you need anything at all? I can get a substitute for myself if you need me to do anything.  
(5:25 AM)

**Gabriel** : I'm here for you brother.  
(5:25 AM)

**Castiel** : Thank you, Gabriel. I don't know if I need anything at the moment. Maybe a change of clothes? And a toothbrush. If you wouldn't mind going to my house. Feed the chickens maybe? And Norma? I ran out of the house at 2 AM and I didn't think to do any of that.  
(5:26 AM)

**Gabriel** : Of course. I'll head over there right now.  
(5:26 AM)

**Castiel** : Thank you.  
(5:27 AM)

Castiel put his phone back into his pocket and tried to rest his eyes. Just then, Dean’s fingers twitched. Castiel’s eyes shot open, and he stood up beside Dean’s bed. Dean was awake, looking right at him, but it was like he couldn’t see him. 

“Hey, Dean,” he said softly. He rubbed Dean’s hand. “It’s me, Dean. Everything is okay, Everything’s fine. You’re in the hospital. I’m here, Dean.”

Dean’s heart rate began to increase, and he stirred in his bed, looking around, only to be limited by the tubes and started to become frantic. He looked back at Castiel and stopped moving for a moment. He squinted his eyes and Castiel nodded. 

“That's right, it’s me, Dean. I’m here.” Castiel took a hand and caressed Dean’s cheek. “I’m right here, baby. It’s me.”

But then Dean started to move again, trying to escape Castiel’s hands. Castiel’s eyes widened as Dean started to panic. He tried to soothe Dean some more, but he only got worse. Castiel walked hastily around to the other side of the bed and pressed the call button for a nurse to attend to Dean. 

A nurse was in Dean’s room within seconds. She took out a needle and inserted it into his IV, sedating him. Castiel’s heart was racing, tears welling in his eyes, and he tried to ask the nurse for answers, but she only said it was normal for him to react this way. 

Castiel sat back down in the chair and waited for Gabriel, holding his face in his hands, and tried not to cry. 

 

Gabriel showed up nearly an hour later with a backpack filled with clothes, toiletries, a small throw pillow, a couple books (bless him), and some snacks. He had texted Castiel when he pulled in, and Castiel left Dean’s room for the first time since he arrived, and met him in the waiting room on the main floor.

“Cassie!” Gabriel called to him when he saw him. He pulled him into a warm hug and handed Castiel his things.

“Thank you,” Castiel said, grabbing the backpack from his brother.

“How is he?” Gabriel asked.

“I don’t know,” Castiel answered truthfully. “He woke up earlier, and was pretty out of it. He looked so…so—scared. It was awful. I didn’t know how to help him.”

Gabriel squeezed his shoulder.

“It’ll be okay, Cassie. He’ll pull through.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Tears started to well in his eyes and he swallowed. “What if—”

“Hey, hey don’t think like that, okay? Everything will be fine.” Gabriel pulled him into another hug. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”

“You can’t promise me things like that, Gabriel. We aren’t children anymore,” Castiel said when they parted.

Gabriel sighed. “I know. But he’s stable, right? That’s a good thing.”

Castiel nodded, only half agreeing. He looked around the waiting room, looking at the people sitting down, the children playing with the toys. The noise surrounding them couldn’t drown out Castiel’s worries, and Gabriel could tell.

“Cas,” he said. “Look at me.”

Castiel brought his eyes to his brother’s.

“Everything will work out. When he wakes up and sees you, he’s going to be so happy. I just know it.”

“When he looked at me earlier, it was like he didn’t even know who I was…” Castiel looked away.

“That's just the drugs,” Gabriel reassured him. “Once he’s awake and off the machine, he’ll be so happy that you’re here.”

Castiel nodded again, only to appease his brother.

“I should get going,” Gabriel said, squeezing Castiel’s shoulder again. “I still have to run back to my place before I get to work so I’ll text you later.”

“Okay. Thanks again, Gabriel. For everything.”

“Of course.” Gabriel gave him a soft smile and turned to walk out the sliding doors. 

Castiel made his way back to the elevator and pressed the fifth floor button. 

 

When Sam arrived a few hours later, Castiel was in Dean’s room, reading. 

“Hey,” Sam said in greeting as he opened the door. He was carrying a tray of coffees and a brown paper bag. “How is he?”

Castiel put his book down. Sam handed him a coffee with some packets of sugar and cups of creamer.

“Thank you,” he said, grabbing them. “He woke up shortly after 5:00 but the nurses sedated him. Do you know when he’ll be off the machine?”

He stirred in the sugar and creamers, then took a sip. It was like heaven in a paper cup.

“I don’t know,” Sam grunted as he sat down in the other chair. “Probably when the stitches are all healed.”

Castiel nodded. 

“Anything else happen?”

“No. Gabriel brought me a few things,” he gestured to the backpack and his book, “but nothing else regarding Dean.” 

“Well I guess that’s good then, right?”

“I suppose.” Castiel took another sip.

Sam cleared his throat. “I brought breakfast, if you haven’t eaten yet.”

“No, I haven’t. And I’ll be honest, I’ve completely forgotten about eating. The coffee is perfect by the way, thank you. I only slept a few hours, so this was exactly what I needed.”

“Dude, you should have come back to my place. You would have actually slept.” Sam rummaged through the paper bag and pulled out a wrapped breakfast sandwich and handed it to Castiel, reaching over the bed. 

“Thank you,” Castiel said again, grabbing it. He unwrapped it while he spoke. “And I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” Sam shrugged, biting into his sandwich.

Castiel took a bite of his sandwich and sighed. He didn’t realize how hungry he was, and his stomach thanked Sam for looking out for him. They ate in relative silence, aside from Dean’s machine and heart monitor. 

 

By 10:00 AM, Dean had a few visitors from work. Castiel had never met them, so it made it awkward introducing himself. What was he? He was obviously Dean’s ex-boyfriend, but it was more complicated than that. 

He met Adam and Hannah, who were both very nice. He shook their hands and made small talk, telling them that nothing has changed with Dean’s status, but assured them that meant it was a good thing (or so Sam had said). He visited with them for a little while before they had to get back to work. Sam had to leave to make a call to his publisher, leaving Castiel alone. Shortly after, a man wearing an EMT uniform came in. 

“Hello,” he said, “I’m Aaron. I brought Dean in last night.”

“Castiel. I’m…Dean’s friend,” Castiel replied shortly. 

“Nice to meet you.” Aaron shook his hand. “I’ve known Dean for years. We went to the Police Academy together—before I decided I didn’t want to be a cop. He’s a good man.”

“He is,” Castiel agreed. 

A few moments of silence. 

“Can’t believe it though,” Aaron said. “Of all people, it had to be Dean. I was talking to Adam and Hannah—I don’t know if you’ve met them yet—” Castiel nodded. “—they told me what happened. They were all on duty last night, undercover.”

“What happened?” Castiel asked hesitantly. He wasn’t actually sure if he wanted to know, but he was desperate for answers. 

“I won’t say the whole story, but basically, Dean put himself in the line of fire just so Adam wouldn’t get shot.”

Castiel looked at Dean, making a face.

“The gunshot was an accident though,” Aaron continued. “There was a noise somewhere off in the house that startled the girl with the gun, and everything just sort of happened from there.”

“I see,” Castiel said. “Do you think he’ll be okay though?”

“Dean? Of course. He’ll be fine. They’ll probably take him off the machine in a couple days.” Aaron put his hands in his pockets and nodded along with his assumption. 

Castiel let out a sigh of relief. 

“That’s good news.” Castiel nodded. “Really great news.”

 

At noon, a nurse came in to check up on Dean, and gave him some morphine and some more sedatives to keep him asleep. Gabriel showed up on his lunch break, bringing Castiel Thai food, which was one of Castiel’s favourites.

They were in the middle of eating when a woman knocked on the open door. She was in a police uniform, white shirt, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun, the red lipstick she wore complimented her olive skin. 

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Kali Vale. Dean’s Captain.” 

Castiel put his food down and stood up to shake her hand. 

“Castiel Novak. I’m…one of Dean’s friends. This is my brother Gabriel.” 

If Gabriel could look any more dumbstruck, it would be now. 

“Gabriel Novak, it’s nice to meet you,” Gabriel said as he stood up. He dropped his fork on the floor and quickly picked it up, placing it on the chair with his food before he shook Kali’s hand.

Castiel rolled his eyes. 

“Likewise,” Kali replied, letting go of Gabriel’s hand. “I was just stopping by on my lunch to see how Dean was doing.”

“He’s currently sedated,” Castiel told her. 

“I see,” she said, glancing at Dean. 

They were silent for a few moments. Castiel looked over at Gabriel and saw him ogling Kali. Castiel cleared his throat.

“So—” Castiel started.

“Did Dean—” Kali stopped. “I’m sorry, go ahead.”

“No, by all means, you go ahead.”

Kali smiled. “Did Dean tell you I offered him the Detective’s position?”

Castiel looked over at Dean, lying on the bed. 

“No, he didn’t. That’s very…thoughtful of you. I’m sure he’ll make a great Detective.”

There was an awkwardness in the air. Of course Kali wouldn’t know that him and Dean hadn’t spoken in weeks, and Castiel didn’t really know what else to say.

Gabriel piped up. 

“So do Captains go on dates at all?”

Castiel rolled his eyes again. “Excuse my brother, Ms. Vale, he doesn’t know proper _manners_.” He shot his brother a glare. 

She gave a short smile. “I should probably go. It was nice to meet you both.” 

“You as well, Ms. Vale,” Castiel replied. 

When Kali left, Gabriel was still swooning. 

“Seriously?” Castiel chuckled. “You better watch yourself, I think you’re drooling.”

“Shut up, Cas.” 

Castiel only shook his head and turned to walk back to his chair. 

“I should probably get going,” Gabriel said. “Do you want me to see about getting you a substitute for next week?”

Castiel thought about it. He wasn’t sure what Dean’s condition would be like, but felt like he needed to be there for Dean.

“If it’s possible, please,” he replied. 

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll see you later Cassie.” 

And with that, Castiel was left alone with Dean. Castiel got a text from Sam, who told him he had to run home for a bit. Something about his publisher, but Castiel didn’t read into it.

 

Dean woke up again shortly after 3:00 PM, more groggy, and thankfully, less freaked out. He stirred in his bed, and Castiel realized that he had fallen asleep, because the sound of Dean groaning woke him up. 

He slowly straightened himself in the chair, making sure Dean saw him first in case he started to panic again. Dean was looking around the room, and eventually made eye contact with Castiel, and his expression softened. 

“Hey,” Castiel said quietly. Dean blinked. “Do you need a nurse? I can get one for you.”

Dean shook his head, minding the tubes. 

Castiel sat on the edge of the chair, getting closer to the edge of the bed. He wanted to reach out to Dean, hold his hand, sooth him. But he wasn’t sure how he would react this time around. Instead, he kept his hands to himself, mindlessly picking at a frayed thread on his jeans. 

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked.

Dean looked around the room and coughed, then nodded. 

“I’m not sure when they can take those tubes out, but they’re helping you breathe right now,” Castiel explained.

Dean looked at him, intently. Castiel sighed.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m…here. I suppose your brother is to blame.”

Dean nodded, agreeing. It almost looked like he was smiling, but it was hard to tell with the tubes in his mouth. He sucked in a breath when he moved, obviously causing himself pain.

“Are you sure you don’t need a nurse?”

Dean pressed the call button before Castiel could move, and a nurse came inside. 

“Ah, Mr. Winchester. You’re awake,” she said as she walked into the room. 

She checked his IV bags, checked a few things on his chart, made sure he was comfortable, and gave him some more morphine. 

“He should be feeling better in no time!” the nurse said cheerily. Castiel wasn’t sure if she was talking about the morphine taking over, or Dean’s overall health.

“When can he be off the machine?” Castiel asked.

“It all depends how well he’s healed up. The doctor might want to keep him on it for a little while so he doesn’t tire himself out. Lung wounds are tricky business.”

Castiel nodded, looking back at Dean, who obviously couldn’t say anything in protest. 

“Call me if you need anything else,” she said before she left the room.

Castiel pulled his chair closer to the bed and got himself comfortable. He sat there quietly for a few moments, watching Dean breathe. A few moments passed before Castiel had to say something.

“I know you’re not able to talk right now, with all those tubes but…I’m here to help you in any way that I can. I’ll understand if you’d rather I leave. So if you don’t want me here, just—I don’t know, flip me off or something,” he half laughed, nervously, and hoped that Dean wouldn’t actually.

Castiel thought Dean had fallen asleep from the lack of response, but what Dean did next had Castiel’s stomach flipping. Dean held out his hand and Castiel stared at it for a moment before he realized what it all meant. Castiel took his hand and placed it in Dean’s, sighing when Dean threaded their fingers together. 

Things were going to be okay. Castiel could feel it.


	18. Things Will Never Be The Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOME FLUFF AND KISSES AND AHHH HAPPY TIMES ARE COMING
> 
> This chapter switches from Cas to Dean and then back to Cas :)  
> I hope it's not confusing at all!
> 
> This will all I'll be posting today, and I should have the rest up by tomorrow night!!

Castiel stayed the whole weekend. The hospital provided him a cot to sleep on, which was better than the chair. Sam offered him a bed at his place, but Castiel felt more comfortable staying with Dean. He went home Saturday evening, only to shower and eat a decent meal. 

It was quiet sitting with Dean throughout the weekend. Most of the time, Castiel would read from his book, call a nurse if Dean needed it, or tell Dean about Norma and the chickens. Dean seemed to like the last part the most. 

They had gotten into a rhythm. If Dean felt like talking, he would text Castiel. Castiel, of course would talk back instead of texting, but it made things less boring. The first text Castiel received was Friday night. He was sitting in his chair, reading his book, when his phone buzzed. Not thinking much of it, he grabbed it and stopped, glancing at Dean, who Castiel could tell was smiling (as best as one could with a tube stuck down their throat) just by the look in his eyes. 

**Dean Winchester** : So. How've you been? You look good sitting over there.  
(8:09 PM)

Castiel smirked. "I've been alright. I'm sure you've had better days."

Dean rolled his eyes. 

**Dean Winchester** : No shit.  
(8:10 PM)

"Speaking of which," Castiel started, "how are you feeling right now? Your pain okay?"

Dean took a moment to think about it and type it out. 

**Dean Winchester** : Today isn't too bad. But I would be lying if I told you I wasn't in pain. I can't move without feeling like I'm tearing my insides apart and it's still weird that I’m breathing through this thing.  
(8:12 PM)

Castiel nodded. “I can only imagine. Do you need anything? I can get a nurse if you’d like?”

Dean shook his head, then went back to his phone. 

**Dean Winchester** : I’m fine. I’m a tough guy ;)  
(8:13 PM)

Castiel raised an eyebrow, catching Dean’s eye roll and scowl. 

**Dean Winchester** : Honestly, I’m fine. I can deal with the pain. Have to learn to suppress it.  
(8:13 PM)

“It’s okay to ask for help every once and a while, you know.” Dean glared at him.

**Dean Winchester** : I’m honestly not going to go there with you.  
(8:15 PM)

Castiel hit a sensitive spot and winced. Dean softened his expression.

**Dean Winchester** : Sorry.  
(8:15 PM)

**Dean Winchester** : But you’re the last person I would imagine asking for help. Aside from myself. It’s just who we are.  
(8:16 PM)

Castiel nodded, agreeing. “I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m trying my best, I hope you know. I want to be here for you, but I can understand if you don’t want me here any longer.”

Dean looked at Castiel with eyes that nearly burned through him. He started texting again.

**Dean Winchester** : You know that’s not what I meant. You being here, it's a surprise. And to be honest, the first time I saw you, I thought I was hallucinating. I didn’t think you were real. When I woke up the second time and saw you, still sitting there, it made me feel happy. Despite all of the shit I got going on. It’s really good to see you.  
(8:18 PM)

“Yes, well. It would be better to see you under different circumstances, but I suppose this will have to suffice, for now.”

They stopped talking for a while and Castiel thought that Dean was too tired to continue. He went back to his reading and was surprised when his phone lit up again. 

**Dean Winchester** : I've missed you.  
(8:34 PM)

Castiel sighed, looking back up at Dean. Dean was staring at him, his eyes a deep olive in the low light. "I've missed you too, Dean. Probably more than I'd like to admit. 

**Dean Winchester** : Yeah, me too.  
(8:35 PM)

**Dean Winchester** : You know, you don't actually have to be here. Not saying I want you to leave, but I can understand if you have more important things to be doing. You are a teacher.  
(8:38 PM)

"I want to be here, Dean. Besides, I've taken next week off.”

**Dean Winchester** : You don't have to do that. You notice how my brother hasn't been around? He's not worried. You shouldn't be either.  
(8:40 PM)

“I’m not worried.”

**Dean Winchester** : He said, with a worried expression on his face.  
(8:41 PM)

Castiel laughed, shaking his head. 

**Dean Winchester** : There’s that smile.  
(8:41 PM)

“You’re impossible.”

**Dean Winchester** : And you’re adorable.  
(8:42 PM)

“Are you flirting with me, Dean Winchester?”

**Dean Winchester** : Maybe.  
(8:42 PM)

Castiel chuckled, maybe even blushed a little. 

—————————————

By Monday morning, the doctor ordered Dean to get a couple scans done to check on his lungs. The scans showed significant improvements that showed they were healing well. This made Castiel swell with relief. The doctor said that Dean might be able to come off the machine within the next few days. 

Gabriel showed up that afternoon after he was done work, bringing Castiel some marking that he asked for from his classroom. Dean was resting, so they made sure to keep it down. 

"If I can't be there, I should at least try to keep on top of things," he explained, grabbing the folder from Gabriel. "Thank you. Did you talk to the sub? How were the students?"

Gabriel made a face. "Cas, they're your students. They're practically the best out of the entire school. How do you think they were?"

Castiel shrugged. 

"They terrorized the substitute, I don't think she'll ever return," Gabriel joked. Castiel rolled his eyes. 

Gabriel settled himself in one of the chairs. 

"How's he doing?" he asked, nodding at Dean. 

"Good. He says the pain is okay but I think he's hiding more than he's letting on," Castiel replied. "He should be off the machine by the end of the week, the doctor said."

Gabriel nodded. "That's good, then."

"Yes. It is." Castiel looked over at Dean, who looked less pained, now that he was asleep. 

"I told you he would be okay."

Castiel let out a breath. He wasn't frustrated, but he was tired. He didn't need his older brother giving him the "I told you so's" when anything could still happen. He rubbed his face and closed his eyes. 

He heard a faint rustle and looked up. Dean was waking up and rubbing his forehead. Castiel stood up and walked over to the bed. 

"Headache?" he asked. Dean nodded. “Do you need anything? I could get a nurse.”

Dean shook his head and grabbed his phone. In turn, Castiel grabbed his and waited for a reply. 

**Dean Winchester** : Just shut the blinds, I think it’s a migraine.  
(4:42 PM)

Castiel turned and closed the blinds, along with the curtains to give extra shade.

“There. Is that better?”

Dean nodded. 

“Do you want me to get you a nurse to give something for your pain?”

Dean shook his head. 

“Dean…” Castiel sighed, waiting for Dean to type out his message.

**Dean Winchester** : I’ll be fine. The shade will help.  
(4:45 PM)

“Okay, if you say so.”

Castiel looked at his brother who was exchanging glances between the two of them.

“Did I miss something?” he asked Castiel.

Castiel rolled his eyes and said, “When Dean needs to talk, he texts me. He can’t really say anything with that tube down his throat.”

“So, getting shot is the only way to talk to my brother, hey?” Gabriel winked at Dean, who rolled his eyes in response. 

“Gabriel!” Castiel snapped. He shot a hard glare at his brother. 

“What! I’m just kidding, jeez.” Gabriel turned and grabbed his coat from behind the chair. “But anyways, I should probably get going.”

Castiel’s phone buzzed as Gabriel grabbed the door handle. He glanced at it and smirked. 

“He says ‘fuck you,’” he told Gabriel.

Gabriel turned and blew Dean a kiss before he opened the door and left the room. Castiel shook his head

 

Dean got his tubes removed on Wednesday. Castiel waited outside his room while nurses sedated Dean, and removed his equipment. He tried sitting, but he was too antsy; pacing down the hall while he waited. It only took about a half hour, but it felt like ages. He would occasionally lean against the wall to stop himself from moving, but he would still twitch his fingers at his sides. When Dean’s doctor came out of his room, Castiel pushed himself off the wall and walked up to him. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked desperately.

“Yes, Mr. Novak. The procedure went well. He’s still sedated but you can go in.” 

Castiel opened the door and saw Dean lying in bed, sleeping. It was almost strange being able to see Dean’s whole face; the tubes and machinery got in the way of that—Castiel felt like cursing any god who would think it would be rational to hide the beauty of Dean’s face. Dean, now a cannula delivering him oxygen. _It’s okay, he’s fine, just relax_ , Castiel tried to tell himself. He walked over to Dean’s bed and sat in the chair beside him. He pulled out his book and read for a bit, but to be honest, he probably read the same thing over about fifty times before he gave up and put the book away. 

He waited as patiently as he could. He called Sam and told him Dean’s tubes had been removed. Sam was delighted to hear the news, and said he would be over right away. Castiel wondered why Sam hadn’t been as present as he thought he would. Dean told him that Sam was just being distracted by his work, seeing how Dean’s health was improving, Sam felt he could get more things done at home. 

That was understanding to Castiel, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a little overprotective. Then he got to feeling insecure and stupid. Dean said he was fine. But Castiel took the whole week off to play bodyguard for his ex-boyfriend. 

Castiel sighed. He leaned his head back against his chair and closed his eyes. He focused on the sound of Dean's machine. 

About ten minutes later, Castiel heard the door opened. He opened his eyes. 

“Hey,” Sam said in greeting. 

“Sam, how are you?” Castiel asked, sitting up. 

“Good,” he replied, smiling as he sat in the other chair. “Really good, actually.” 

“Oh?” Castiel cocked his head to the side. 

“Yeah, uh. I’ve been making plans to see someone and it looks like it’s finally going to happen!”

“That’s great news, Sam.” Castiel was curious who he was talking about but it didn’t want to pry if it wasn’t his business. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty stoked. I haven’t told Dean yet though, so I guess we’ll see what he says.”

“Would Dean’s opinion change things?”

Sam looked at his brother. “The person I’m meeting lives in New York. She invited me to stay with her for a couple weeks. And it works out great because I’ll be able to get in touch with my publishing company and go to a few meetings. But mostly be with her.” 

“New York? Wow. That’s…so where does Dean fall into this?” Castiel glanced at Dean, who was still asleep. 

“Well…” Sam started, “if Dean’s okay to be on his own, I fly out on Saturday.” 

“Saturday? As in, a few days from now?” Castiel raised his eyebrows. “Sam, he won’t be better by then. If anything, he’ll be just leaving the hospital. You can’t just _go_.”

He huffed out a breath. 

“I guess we’ll see what Dean says.” Sam’s tone was becoming defensive. 

“You _know_ what he will say, Sam!” Castiel tried to keep his voice down so that he wouldn’t wake Dean. He leaned forward in his chair. “He’s going to lie and tell you that he’s fine, when we _both_ know that he’s not, and you’ll be off in New York. Something could _happen_ to him, Sam.”

Sam sighed. 

“Well, I just thought that maybe he could, I don’t know—stay with you?”

Castiel was becoming frustrated. He was here because he cared about Dean. Still cared. After all the time they spent apart, he knew he still loved Dean, and wanted to be there to make sure he was okay. But Sam? Sam was gone the minute Castiel showed up. 

“You mean how _I’ve_ been with him this whole time, and you’ve been at home planning a _vacation_?”

“Cas, just hold on.” Sam held up a hand to stop his ranting.

“No.” Castiel was stern. “I don’t know about you, but if Gabriel was in the same condition as Dean—”

“If it was Gabe, you’d probably be where I am! Working, trying to get things in order, because you know he’s going to be okay. The only reason why you’re still here with Dean, is because you’re not over him, and you’re sitting here, hoping this will bring you guys closer together—or back together—whatever.” 

The truth sliced through him like a knife, and despite the fact that it wasn’t technically a _harsh_ fact, it was still jolting to hear it from someone that wasn’t himself (who had been denying it up until this point).

Castiel clenched his jaw and let himself settle down before replying to Sam.

“I just feel,” he paused, “like you haven’t really been here for Dean. And it’s upsetting to see you as if you don’t care.”

“Of course I care about him, Cas! He’s my brother, and I’ll always care about him. But there’s nothing I can do when he’s stuck to a bed. And I’m sure he told you that you didn’t need to be here, and yet—here you are. There’s nothing wrong with what either of us are doing with our time, Cas.”

Castiel pursed his lips. Sam was right. And Castiel was overreacting. 

He sighed again.

“I suppose you’re right, Sam. I apologize.” 

Sam changed the subject. “So how much longer do you think it’ll be till he wakes up?”

"I'm not sure. The doctor didn't say, actually." Castiel looked back at Dean and tried not to look worried. Dean looked so...not like Dean. He seemed so bare without the machine and Castiel was fretting that maybe it was too soon, that Dean wasn't quite ready to be off of it. But there Dean was, breathing on his own. Castiel couldn't help but feel a little ridiculous. 

He pulled out some marking to keep him occupied. 

What good that really did. 

—————————————  
_Dean_

When Dean started to wake up, something felt wrong. Well, not _wrong_ , but weird. He didn't have the tube in his throat. There was air blowing up his nose which felt different. He swallowed—okay, bad idea. He winced, his throat was dry and itching as he coughed. Cas was by his side in an instant. 

"Dean?"

He could barely hear his own voice as it rasped out, " _Water_."

Castiel nodded and left, returning a minute later with a bottle of water. 

Dean opened the bottle and drank the entire thing, not caring if it hurt to swallow. The water felt good, cold and soothing. He let out a large breath when he finished drinking the water and smiled, despite being in pain. 

_He was off the machine._

"How do you feel?" Sam asked, looking at him nervously. 

Dean cleared his throat and coughed once before answering. "Good. Really good."

"I'll get the nurse," Cas said. Dean half rolled his eyes but Castiel didn’t notice. 

The nurse came in and checked on him, telling him that he was doing very well from the procedure, and that they will monitor him over the next 48 hours. He should be good to go by the weekend. 

When the nurse left, Sam piped up, clearing his throat first. 

“Speaking of the weekend,” he started. “Uhm, Jess invited me to go see her. If you’re cool with it, I’ll be leaving Saturday.”

Dean furrowed his brows together in his thought process. He could probably be okay on his own. Castiel spoke next.

“Sam and I discussed this earlier, and I think it would be best if you stayed with me while Sam is gone. Or I stay with you—your decision.” Even though they didn’t really _discuss_ it, Castiel would rather Dean be with him than on his own.

“Wait, what?” Dean looked between the two of them. Cas on one side of his bed, Sam on the other. “Guys, come on. I’m not made of glass. I’m sure I can take care of myself.”

“You haven’t even gotten out of this bed yet, Dean. We don’t know your full condition,” Castiel replied. 

“Yeah,” Sam pitched in. “I guess we’ll wait and see what the doctor says about whether or not you’ll need any help or support with certain things.” 

Cas nodded, agreeing. 

“Uh, okay?” Dean said.

He had to admit, his ribs were sore as fuck, and every time he moved it was like they were breaking all over again. But he didn’t tell them that. And he tried not to let it show on his face. He scratched the back of his head, using his right hand, so that he wouldn’t have to move his left arm (making his ribs hurt), and supposed he’d have to wait and see.

 

Sam left shortly after. Dean gave him a quick wave and then it was just him and Castiel. Dean wondered if Cas was ever going to leave his side. Not that he wanted him to, no. It was nice having him here. It was just…weird. Their meet up at the bar while Castiel was drunk out of his mind had Dean believing that he was the last person Cas wanted to see. So why the change?

“Hey, uh—Cas?”

“Hmm?” Castiel asked as he looked up from his book.

“Uhm, why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” He closed his book and set it in his lap. 

“Look, I—I get that you’re here because you want to help. And I appreciate that—honestly. But why are you here for me? The last time we saw each other—and I know you probably don’t really remember much of it—you acted as if you never wanted to see my face again. So I’m just wondering…why now? Why all of the sudden do you think you being here is going to change things? Things will never be the same.”

Castiel flinched. Dean didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but it was the truth. Things were never going be the same between them—not after Balthazar. Dean watched Castiel as he thought about his answer. It was a few moments before Castiel spoke.

“I don’t know,” Castiel answered, looking up at Dean. “And you’re right, I don’t remember much from that night at the bar. Gabriel filled me in on most of what happened. I do remember seeing your text, but I had no idea what context it was surrounding, so I just left it.”

Dean shrugged in understanding. Castiel continued.

“Your brother and I had a bit of an argument earlier while you were asleep. He told me about him going to New York, and I started to get upset because he hasn’t been here to see you, whereas I’ve been here this whole time.” Castiel looked down at his hands. “I don’t really know _why_ I’ve been staying here. It’s clear that you’re more than capable being by yourself. It’s just…” He let out a sigh. “Balthazar. He was shot and killed on duty, and he never made it to the hospital. I guess I’ve been staying because I wanted to make sure you would at least leave this hospital alive.

“And I know things have changed between us, Dean. But I still care about you. And I want you to know that I will always be here for you, regardless of what I may have said when I was drinking. I apologize for my actions, I seem to make an ass of myself when that intoxicated. I do hope we can work things out for each other to a state where we are both happy. And I really don’t mind helping you while Sam is gone to New York. In fact, I would prefer you staying with me rather than you being alone, but if you would rather have this time for yourself, I would understand.”

Castiel let out a breath. Dean let himself process the entire thing that he was not expecting. That was a lot to take in. He pursed his lips as he thought about everything. Castiel stared at him, searching for an answer Dean wasn’t even sure he had at the moment.

“Okay,” Dean said. “Baby steps, right?”

Castiel nodded. 

Baby steps.

 

The next day, Adam visited him while he was on his break. Cas had gone home for a bit to get things organized for Dean to stay there. Dean had agreed that it was probably best that he at least stay with someone. He didn’t want to bother Jo, or Ellen and Bobby with his sorry ass; he oddly felt more comfortable with the idea of staying with Cas than at his brother’s house, so that basically just left him with Castiel. 

Dean was happy to see Adam when he walked through the door. He was anxious to ask him about the case and how everything was going back at work—he desperately needed to know _something_. Being stuck in this hospital bed wasn’t the most fun Dean had ever had, and he sometimes wished there were other circumstances that would lead him to being restrained to a bed, but he wasn’t going to go there. 

“Dean, you’re looking great!” Adam said as he sat down next to Dean’s bed. 

“Thanks man,” Dean replied. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh you know, work and more work,” he half laughed. “Since the bust, it’s been the paperwork that’s killing me.”

“Oh?” Dean shifted in his bed, getting more comfortable. The cannula was pinching behind his ears and it was started to bother him. 

“Vale has everyone on overdrive trying to get this entire case wrapped up. But…” Adam trailed off, clasping his hands together.

Dean shot him a confused glance. “But what?”

Adam sighed. “It’s looking like this is a bigger case than we expected, Dean. It’s deeper than Ronnie, and—”

“How’s Claire?”

“What?”

“The girl—Claire. How is she?”

Adam shrugged. “I don’t know, Dean. We processed her, and everything, but pretty much had to hand her off to social services. We charged her with assault with a deadly weapon, wounding an officer—but she’s only sixteen. Sure, it’ll go on her record, but it’s hard to get a kid in prison.”

“So, so—she’s okay though, right?”

“Uh—well by okay you mean alive, then yes. She’s okay. She’s currently in a foster home. We have her on watch in case she tries to run away. But we know where she’ll likely run off to if she does—except that place is hoarded with cops, and Ronnie isn’t even there.”

“Hmm,” was all Dean had to say about that. "And Cole?"

Adam sighed again. "You're not gonna like it...but he's not suspended."

Dean raised his eyebrows in shock. 

"And why the fuck not?"

"Dean, be reasonable," Adam replied. "We were already short staffed before you took the bullet, so Vale really couldn't afford to lose anyone else. Even idiots like Trenton."

Dean scoffed. Adam was right.

"Did she say anything about the Detective spot?" he asked, curious. 

Adam shrugged. "Nothing that I know of. Why?"

Dean huffed out a sarcastic laugh, "Well not like it does me any good _now_ , but before the sting she told me that if the bust was a success, she would consider giving me the badge. Like I have a shot at it now."

Dean looked down at his hands. 

"Well maybe she hasn't brought it up because she still wants to promote you."

Dean pursed his lips. Adam had a point.

 

By Friday morning, Dean was able to get the rest of his equipment removed. He had never been more excited in his entire life. He woke up to nurses doing a routine check up on his vitals, crossing off things on their charts, filling in paperwork, and removing the rest of the equipment attached to Dean’s body. 

Dean could notice Castiel’s frantic expression when they turned off the heart monitor. _It’s okay_ , he wanted to say. But it didn’t matter, because Castiel had a new wave of worry when they took the cannula out. Dean had to say something.

“Dude, chill out,” he laughed. God it felt nice getting those damn tubes out from under his nose. 

“Sorry,” Castiel said, looking down. 

Dean chuckled. The IV was removed, which wasn’t the most pleasant feeling in the world, but it was nice having his arm back. He rubbed the spot where the needle was. His ribs were still pretty tender, but if he didn’t move so much, it wasn’t as bad. 

Finally, everything was turned off, taken out, and Dean was free. He was hesitant when he pulled the blankets off of him, watching as Castiel slowly stood up out of the chair. The nurses were beside him, watching, in case something happened. He slowly pulled himself up off the bed and swung his legs down. Everything spun for a few seconds while he tried to regain his balance. 

He inched forward, feet touching the floor. He looked up at Castiel, who looked like he was trying not to cry; eyes welling up, face contorted. One of the nurses held out a hand for Dean and he took it, trying to push off with his legs and not have to pull himself up. 

And then, he was standing. 

He was breathing on his own. 

_He did it_. 

Pride swelled inside as a smile spread across his face like he wouldn't believe. The nurses all gave him small praises and he waved them off, laughing lightly. When he finally looked at Cas, his heart ached.

There he was, tears streaming down his face, and his mouth torn somewhere between happiness and pain. Dean took a step towards him and Castiel let out a sob. 

"It's okay, Cas. I'm okay." He walked up to his—what would you even call him? He walked up to Castiel and grabbed his hand. He took his free hand and brushed his thumb across Cas' cheek. "Hey, look at me."

Castiel took a moment to compose himself before he brought his eyes to Dean's. 

"What's wrong?"

Castiel sighed. 

"I'm sorry, Dean. I—I just." Cas started crying again, taking his other hand and wiping at his eyes. "Sorry."

Dean pulled the man into a hug, not caring that his backside was likely exposed, and wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders. Cas was surprised and reluctant to oblige, but he did, gently wrapping his arms around Dean's waist, minding his pressure. He buried his face into the nook of Dean's neck and sniffled. 

"It's okay, just stop apologizing." Dean shook his head and ran his hand through Castiel's hair. 

Things will never be the same, but he hoped to any god that they could be. 

—————————————  
_Castiel_

Castiel brought Dean home the following day, after the doctor said they would need to monitor him one more day, now that he was off of the machines. After stopping by Sam’s to get a few of his belongings, Castiel asked if Dean would prefer to stay here. But Dean shook his head and said he wanted to go _home._

Castiel pulled into the garage and turned off the ignition. He stepped out and walked around the front of the car and opened the door for Dean, who only shook his head and waved him away, not wanting his help out of the car. Castiel brought Dean’s things inside while Dean walked around outside, visiting the chickens. 

“Gabriel’s been coming by every day to take care of them. And Norma,” Castiel told him as Dean came inside. 

The weather was dry and cold; frost was on the ground and Dean’s cheeks were slightly pink from the wind. Norma stretched lazily on the couch before hopping off and rubbing up against Dean’s legs. Dean smiled and slowly bent down to pet her, but Castiel could tell that it was painful for him to do so.

Everything was different. The air of the house (which actually hadn’t changed) left a lingering sadness that he could feel in their breaths. Dean was right when he told Castiel that things will never be the same, but it hurt to realize that it was true. The last time Dean was here, Castiel was left with pieces of a busted picture frame and a broken heart. He could tell Dean was thinking the same thing too as he looked around the room. 

“Uhm, everything is in the same place so…” Castiel trailed off. 

Dean nodded. Castiel walked down the hallway and opened a door that Dean had never been inside. He was grateful Dean had never asked about it, because this was Balthazar’s office. Castiel never opened it for the longest time, afraid of flooding his body with pain. But since everything that happened, Castiel was ready to let go. 

While Dean was in the hospital, and had agreed to go home with him, Castiel knew that Dean wouldn’t be able to sleep on the couch. He thought about offering his own bed while he slept on the couch instead, but he knew his back wouldn’t appreciate it in the slightest. 

So he decided that it was time. 

He cleared away all of what was left of Balthazar’s belongings, boxing up the things he could give away, throwing out things he now hated. Gabriel let him borrow his spare bedroom mattress and set up the room so that Dean would have an actual place to sleep. It was a few steps away from Castiel’s bedroom, not far if Dean needed assistance, so Castiel felt comfortable in his decision

Dean walked up beside him and entered the room. 

“I’ve never been in here before,” he observed, Castiel followed him inside. 

“Yes…it was Balthazar’s,” Castiel explained. He looked around the room, trying not to think about what it looked like when Balthazar was still alive; the room had been used at a happier time. Now it was shut away and reserved, like Castiel made himself to be—until he met Dean. “It was about time I got rid of all the stuff in here.”

Dean nodded, placing his hands on his hips. 

“Look, Cas,” Dean turned, pausing. “I don’t want to be a nuisance. If this is too much work for you—”

“Why would you think that?” Castiel cut him off. 

Dean shrugged, looking down. 

“Dean, I _want_ to help you.” Castiel huffed out a breath. “In fact, if it wasn’t for you, I probably never would have touched this room. It’s a constant reminder to what I’ve lost, what he’s done, what he _broke_. I needed to let it go.” 

Dean looked somber as he listened. 

“I meant what I said when I told you I would always be here for you,” Castiel said.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

There was an awkward silence that followed and Castiel didn’t know what else there could be to say. He turned and stepped out of the bedroom to grab Dean’s bags that were sitting on the floor. He placed them at the foot of Dean’s bed and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable in any way.” He turned to look at Dean, dropping his hands to his sides.

“Why would you say that?” Dean asked, furrowing his brows together.

“I don’t know…I just have this impression that I’m coddling you too much and that you just want me to leave you alone.”

Dean quirked up a smile. 

“I think the lesser scenario would be you leaving me alone, Cas. I was telling the truth when I told you I missed you. I just didn’t know what to expect from all of…this.” 

Warmth flooded Castiel. He gave Dean a small nod.

Dean walked over and sat on the bed. He patted the spot beside him on his right and Castiel sat down. Castiel tried to hide the shudder that spiked up his spine when Dean took his hand and rubbed his back. 

“I appreciate everything that you’re doing for me, Cas,” Dean continued. “I can’t even imagine how this all must feel for you. Me being back here, in Balthazar’s old room, his things gone. You say it’s made you feel better, but I know for a fact that it would make things feel…conflicted, I guess.”

Dean didn’t stop rubbing Castiel’s back. Since when did Castiel need coddling? He had to admit that it felt amazing. He only nodded in a agreement and leaned into Dean’s touch. 

“Is this okay?” Dean asked. 

At first Castiel wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but then he assumed that he must have been talking about the back rub.

“Yes, Dean. It’s okay,” he replied softly.

Dean moved his hand up his back and stopped at his neck, rubbing at his shoulders and softly brushing his fingers through Castiel’s hair. There were so many emotions flooding through Castiel. Fear, heartache, warmth, happiness. He could feel Dean’s eyes on him as the emotions flicked across his face. Dean was right. He _was_ conflicted. He didn’t know how to feel about everything. Half of him wanted Dean here more than anything—practically _craved_ him. Having Dean back in his home made him feel more at peace with himself than he had since he peeled out of the driveway, leaving Dean to pick up the pieces scattered on the hardwood floor. The other half of him thought about what Dean said, about things never being the same—and it scared him. He didn’t know what to do. Before he knew it, he was leaning up against Dean’s shoulder, tears welling in his eyes as Dean wrapped his arm around him. 

“It’s okay,” Dean whispered, running his fingers through Castiel’s hair, stopping to pull back and place his own forehead against Castiel’s temple. “Everything will be okay, Cas. I got you.” 

Castiel didn’t say anything, he only let his tears fall down his cheeks, not knowing if they were landing on him or Dean—he didn’t care. Dean just held him. He rubbed small circles at the base of Castiel’s neck and breathed into his skin. Castiel forgot how nice it felt to be held—in Dean’s arms more than anything—and that only made him more upset. 

He couldn't believe how much he missed Dean, and how much he had forgotten. He knew that he missed him, but he forgot the way Dean felt up close, the way his skin smelled. Castiel inhaled deeply as he shuddered into another cry. 

He forgot how Dean _tasted_. 

Without thinking, Castiel lifted his head and surged forward, smashing their mouths together in a heated kiss. Dean grunted a stiff moan as he coaxed his tongue into Castiel’s mouth. _God_ , Castiel missed that. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply as he opened his mouth against Dean’s, whimpering when Dean closed the space and pulled him closer. 

Dean pushed him backwards and Castiel was lying on the bed, Dean carefully moving to position himself better. Dean hovered above Castiel and kissed him deeply. He leaned more on his right side, using his left hand to cup Castiel’s cheek as he sucked in his bottom lip. Castiel brought his hands to run up Dean’s sides. 

“Agh!” Dean cried out. He winced as he shifted his weight more onto his right arm and away from Castiel’s hand on his side.

Castiel’s eyes went wide. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, Dean!” He pulled his arms away from Dean and sat up frantically. 

“It’s alright, Cas. I think you just snagged one of my stitches, it’s no big deal.” He hissed when he moved again.

“Dean,” Castiel started, dropping his hands into his lap. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said as he leaned forward and kissed Castiel’s cheek.

“Dean.” Castiel stopped him. “We shouldn’t be doing this. You’re going to hurt yourself.” 

Dean pressed a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back down. Castiel let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. 

“I’m _fine_ , Cas.” Dean lessened the pressure, and softly rubbed his hand across Castiel’s chest, bringing it up to hold his cheek again. “Just let me kiss you.” 

Castiel didn’t even get a chance to reply before Dean pressed his lips against his. He was gentle and soft. Castiel sighed when Dean hummed, remembering how much he missed the sound of that. Dean mouthed his way down his jaw and sucked at his neck. Castiel’s breath hitched when Dean gently bit into the skin, heat beginning to build in his groin. 

Dean slowly pulled away, bringing his eyes up to Castiel’s, green crashing into blue. Right then, Castiel looked at him— _really_ looked at him. He missed seeing the countless freckles on his face, the ones that scattered across his nose in constellations; the flecks of gold in his eyes, bright like stardust—now blown wide and dark with desire; and the way one eye crinkled a little more than the other. Dean was looking at him in the same way, eyes moving across Castiel’s face like it was trying to memorize every detail, if there were any chance he might never see it again. 

“God I missed you,” Dean said, leaning down to kiss his lips again. Castiel sighed, closing his eyes and letting the feeling of Dean’s lips wash away any worry.

Castiel smiled when they parted, looking up at Dean.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” 

 

They laid together on the bed for a while, just to be next to each other. Dean ran his hand up and down Castiel’s arm and Castiel softly tugged at the loose thread of Dean’s collar on his shirt. 

“They told me you died,” Castiel said abruptly. He felt Dean stiffen, and then nod. “What happened?”

Dean took a moment to answer. 

“I dunno. Probably loss of blood or lack of oxygen to the brain. Or a combination of the two. I didn’t really ask questions when I woke up after the surgery. The ride to the hospital is still pretty spotty—I don’t remember much of that.”

Castiel shifted, pushing himself onto his elbow so that he could look at Dean.

“You seemed so…lost when you woke up.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t think you were real, so it kind of freaked me out. Messed with my head.”

“What do you mean?” 

Dean took a minute to process. 

“I—I don’t know. There was a moment, where…I don’t know—I don’t know _where_ I was, but _you_ were there. We were here—we were…home. Everything was perfect. It was like how it used to be, you know? A lazy morning, the rain coming down, banana pancakes—the whole nine. And I’ve never felt happier. But…something was different, something was off. Everything sort of changed and there was blood everywhere. I couldn’t feel any pain, but you told me I was _dying_. You were telling me that I needed to wake up—begging me to wake up. I have no idea what it all meant, but the next thing I remember, I was in the ambulance. Aaron was telling me we were almost at the hospital. Everything else after that is all fuzzy. If that’s when I was flatlining it, I think…I think you were in my heaven, Cas. You were the angel that saved me.”

Castiel didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even know _what_ to say even if he tried. He just stared at Dean, his mouth slightly open in shock. He assumed it was shock, but he didn’t know how to feel. He could tell Dean was starting to become uncomfortable; he began to fidget while Castiel rebooted. 

“Uhm…” was all Castiel could come up with. It’s not that he was uncomfortable by what Dean said, no. He just never expected to be in anyone’s heaven, let alone believe that there could ever be such a thing.

“I’m sorry if that was too much information,” Dean mumbled. Castiel’s heart sank. 

“No, it wasn’t,” he replied. “It’s just…”

He trailed off into silence again. 

Dean looked down at his hands, which have by now stopped trailing down Castiel’s arm. They sat in his lap, in shame. 

“Don’t do that,” Castiel said.

“Do what?”

“Look like you’ve just been shot.” 

Dean looked up at him with a bizarre look on his face that could only make Castiel break out in smile. 

“I think _you’re_ the one who looks like he’s been shot,” Dean laughed.

Castiel sat up and crossed his legs. Dean remained lying down because it was likely more comfortable. “Dean, I’m not uncomfortable by what you just told me, it’s just…I don’t even know what to _say_ to that. It’s not everyday someone tells you that you were in their heaven. It’s kind of a big deal.”

“Yeah, well _you’re_ kind of a big deal.” 

The words were out of Dean’s mouth before Castiel assumed he had a moment to think about what he was saying, because Dean’s face grew red and he looked away. Castiel smiled sheepishly, and brought his fingers to lift Dean’s chin.

He huffed out a breath when their eyes locked.

“You’re kind of a big deal too.”


	19. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH!  
> We're almost done!!!  
> By the end of last chapter, we had Cas and Dean _sort of_ back together but not really (???); they didn't define it, so we're just gonna go with it.   
>  I'm pretty sure _they_ don't know exactly where they stand but we find out now! :D  
>  This chapter moves pretty fast, there's some angst and then immediately after, there is smut. After going through and editing, I felt like there wasn't enough breathing room between the angst and the smut, but that could just be me.   
> Let me know what you guys think! <3  
> As always, thanks so much for all of the comments. :)

Castiel went back to work Monday. As much as he didn’t want to, Dean pushed him to go. 

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” Dean insisted. He was standing at the front door wearing nothing but boxers underneath his ( _Castiel’s_ ) robe. He was holding a steaming cup of coffee and smiling. Castiel was backing out of the garage, his window rolled down.

“Just don’t hurt yourself,” he called out. 

Dean rolled his eyes and stepped back inside, giving a small wave through the window of the door. 

Castiel would be lying if he said he didn’t worry about him all day. 

 

He made sure to check on him in between classes, sending him texts underneath his desk like some of his seventeen year old students. He was happy that Dean remained _indoors_ as the frost was becoming a permanent feature of the arriving winter season. 

He called Dean during his lunch break, sitting at his desk while students were out in the cafeteria. His door was still open, which meant that he was available should a student come in with any questions on an assignment, so he knew to make the call brief.

“I’m fine,” was all Dean said in greeting. 

“Hello to you too, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.” Castiel could hear the smile in Dean’s voice. There was a rustle on Dean’s end of the call.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m laying on the couch.”

“Were you asleep? Did I wake you?”

“No, I was just getting comfortable.”

Castiel looked at his door when he saw a student walk pass. “How has your morning been?”

“It’s been alright. Just hangin’ with the cat. She’s getting pissed because I won’t let her lay on my stomach.”

Castiel chuckled. “She’s missed you.” 

“Yeah…I’ve missed her too. Ain’t that right Norma Jean?”

Castiel could hear purring. 

“Alright well, as long as everything’s okay,” Castiel said. 

“Of course everything’s okay, what am I—five?” Dean joked. 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “No, Dean. You’re not. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“You don’t have to, you know. If anything happens, or if I need something, I’ll call you. But I’m pretty sure I can handle a good few hours on my own while you’re at work.”

Castiel let the moment breathe. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“Cas,” Dean started. “You know I’m not meaning it in a bad way. I’m not made of glass. I’m not going to break.” Dean paused before he spoke again. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever know what you mean,” Castiel replied lightly. “I guess I should get back to work. Lunch is almost over.”

“Alright. I’ll be here.” 

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Castiel let a smile creep up. 

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Okay. Bye Dean.”

“Because I can’t move!” was all Castiel heard before he hung up the call. He shook his head and put his phone back in his pocket. 

 

Before Castiel got home, he quickly went and picked up a few groceries, since he decided he was going to make bacon wrapped chicken breasts—the same ting he made when Dean first came over for dinner. 

He called Dean when he was halfway home, telling him to turn the oven on to 350. He pulled into the driveway about ten minutes later, grabbing the grocery bags from the back seat. He fumbled with the door handle and was grateful Dean came and opened the door.

“Hey,” Dean said. 

“Thank you.” Castiel walked inside and placed the groceries on the counter. He took his shoes off and placed them by the door. 

“What you got there?” Dean sat at the island slowly, tenderly rubbing his side. 

“Dinner.” Castiel pulled out the chicken breasts from the bag and the package of bacon. 

“You’re not making what I think you’re making, are you?” 

Castiel smirked at Dean’s face, which was practically salivating at the sight of bacon.

“Would that be a problem?”

“No, no. Not at all.” 

“Good.” 

Castiel unwrapped the bacon and placed a few slices on a plate. He took the chicken out of the packaging and ran a couple breasts under cold water, giving them a quick rinse. Dean watched him as he took a slice of bacon and wrapped it around each breast, adding more bacon if needed. 

He sliced half an onion and added pieces to lay atop the chicken breasts. He cracked pepper and sprinkled thyme. Then he took out a pan and lined it with parchment paper, and placed a bay leaf under each breast. 

Just then, the oven beeped; it was ready. Castiel washed his hands and then put the chicken in the oven, set a timer, and took out a pot for the linguini. He poured some water into the pot and set it on the stove, not bothering to turn it on to boil yet because he needed to wait for the chicken. He turned towards the sink to wash up some carrots.

“So how was work?” Dean asked, setting his arms in front of him. 

“It was alright,” Castiel replied, taking out a vegetable peeler. “It was good to be back. I have a lot to catch up on before finals start.”

Dean nodded. “You know, you wouldn’t have to catch up on anything if you didn’t take last week off. I feel kinda bad you have to do that now.”

Castiel looked up from the sink. 

“I would rather be here than at work, in all honesty. But I can only take so much time off. I guess I should have been smarter and taken this week off instead, but oh well.”

“Ah don’t worry about it,” Dean waved him off, smirking. “Me and Norma needed some quality time anyway.”

Castiel chuckled, going back to peeling the carrots. 

“Do you need any help?” Dean asked.

“No, I’m fine, thank you. Just sit there and look pretty. That’s all you have to do.”

“Look pretty, huh?”

Castiel blushed. “It’s just an expression.”

 

When the timer went off, Castiel checked the chicken and then turned the stove on. He placed the carrots in a small pot with some butter to let them cook. Once the water began to boil, he put the linguini in and stirred occasionally. He glanced back at Dean who had his shirt up, and fumbling with the bandages on his ribs. 

“Everything alright?” Castiel asked, putting the spoon down. 

“Yeah, it’s just the stitches.” Dean rubbed over the bandage and winced. 

“Do you need anything?” 

“Nah, I’m fine.”

Castiel gave him a wary look but then turned back around and stirred the linguini. He turned the burner off and got out the strainer, placing it in the sink and pouring the hot pasta inside. He then took out a pan and poured in Alfredo sauce, along with onions, mushrooms, and bacon. 

“Smells good, Cas.” 

“Thank you.” He stirred the Alfredo sauce and then added the linguini. “It’s almost ready. Are you okay to grab some plates?”

“You got it, boss.” 

Castiel watched as Dean stood up and walked over to the corner cupboards and grabbed two plates, setting them beside the stove and opened the drawer in front of him to get the cutlery. He walked around Castiel, a hand gently grazing his backside while he reached into the fridge to grab orange juice. Castiel would be lying if he didn’t think the gesture was intentional, _and_ that it felt normal. 

 

They were halfway through supper when Dean rubbed his side again.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Castiel asked, cutting into his chicken. They were sitting at either end of the table.

Dean shot him a look of annoyance but then softened it. He sighed. “Yeah…something for the pain, I guess.”

Castiel got up and grabbed Dean’s pain medication from the end table by the couch.

“Thanks.” Dean grabbed the pill bottle and took two.

“That bad?”

Dean sipped at his orange juice to help with the pills. He winced as they went down. 

“Awful, if I’m telling the truth.”

Castiel bugged his eyes out. “ _Awful_? Dean, you don’t have to endure pain like this! Those pills are there for you to take when you’re in pain. You take them when you’re hurting—I don’t see why—”

“Spare me the crap, Cas. I know what I’m doing.”

“ _Do you_? Do you really? Because it looks to me like you’re suffering because you want to.”

Dean didn’t say anything but Castiel knew he was right. By this time, both of them had placed their forks and knives on the table beside their plates and were looking straight into each other’s eyes. Dean raised his eyebrows and looked down at his lap.

“Dean,” Castiel tried. 

“Please don’t.” 

“Don’t what, Dean? Why are you doing this? You don’t deserve to be hurting!”

“You don’t know that!” Dean raised his voice, making Castiel flinch.

Castiel took a deep breath. “I don’t know where this is coming from Dean, I really don’t. Please. I’m only asking because I want to be able to help you. I want to be able to understand. _Help me understand your pain_.”

Dean sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. 

“Cas, you won’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Dean scowled. 

Castiel countered, “I’m not leaving this table until you at least tell me why.”

Dean was silent for a moment. He sighed, putting his head into his hands, elbows propped on the table.

“It’s my fault.” Dean’s voice was barely audible.

Castiel tilted his head. “What’s your fault?”

“Everything.”

Castiel got up and moved himself to the chair beside Dean. He gently placed his hand around Dean’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. Dean’s eyes were red-rimmed and bleary. 

“Dean…” Castiel placed Dean’s hand on the table and placed his own overtop, gently squeezing it in encouragement. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Dean sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his free hand. 

“It just sucks, you know? Knowing everything could have been prevented.” 

“Could what have been prevented? You getting shot? Dean, these things happen, and sometimes there’s nothing we can do—”

“I’m not talking about that.”

Castiel furrowed his brows in confusion. “Then what _are_ you talking about?”

“The night of the sting, we…we had to improvise. There was this kid—and she’s gotta be like sixteen years old—just a kid. And she’s got this gun, and I’m trying to talk her down, get her to think about her actions. It was working. I’m telling her how I know how it feels, to be in her shoes; to do anything means necessary just to survive. Then there was this noise, Trenton busted in—without order—into the basement to get the guy we were there for and it scared her—she shot me. It was as accident. If I was better at communicating with her, we could have had the gun out of her hands before Cole ever got in there, and none of this would have happened. Now she’s in this foster home, probably thinking of running. But she’s got nowhere to go. No family that we know of, the guy we arrested was pretty much the only thing she had—and we took that too.”

“And now you feel responsible for her,” Castiel finished. Dean nodded. “Dean, these things, you can’t let them take over you like this. You don’t deserve any punishment you’re giving yourself. Look at me, Dean.”

Dean slowly brought his eyes to Castiel’s.

“It’s not your fault,” Castiel said. “It’s not your fault. Okay? Dean. I need you to know that it’s not your fault. You did everything you could that night. If I had a say who’s fault it was, I would say it was the guy who came inside. If _he_ would have waited for an order, you could have had more time to talk the girl down. But I won’t say that. It’s not my place.”

Dean huffed out a breath and gave a small smile. 

“Everything will be okay,” Castiel continued. He took his hand from Dean’s to wipe a tear that had fallen down Dean’s cheek. “Hmm? Come on, let’s go sit on   
the couch.”

“The dishes…” Dean trailed off. 

“Don't worry about them. Come on.”

Castiel took Dean’s hand and led him to the living room. Dean sat down in the middle of the couch, Castiel put himself on the end, pulling Dean close to him. Dean shifted so that he could turn into Castiel’s chest. He sighed when Castiel ran his hand through his hair. It wasn’t long before Castiel moved their bodies down the couch; Dean laid on his right side, between Castiel and the back of the couch. They laid like that for a while, and Castiel was sure Dean had fallen asleep, when Dean spoke. 

“Hey Cas?” Dean’s voice was muffled by Castiel’s shirt, drugged with drowsiness.

“Hmm?” Castiel was running his hand up Dean’s arm absentmindedly.

“I miss you.”

“What do you mean?” He looked down at Dean. 

Dean slowly inched himself upwards to look at Castiel, propping himself on his right elbow.

“I miss you,” he said again.

“I’m right here,” Castiel replied, still confused. 

Dean moved himself upwards and before Castiel knew it, Dean was lying on top of him, his knees on either side of Castiel’s waist and his hands holding him up by the armrest of the couch. Dean sucked in a breath when he moved the wrong way but cut Castiel off with a kiss when he was about to intervene. It was slow and tender. He pulled away and looked into Castiel’s eyes. Castiel’s heart was hammering; he didn’t know what to the think. 

“Uhm,” Castiel said. It was all he could think to say before Dean leaned down and kissed him again. 

This time, it was deeper; their mouths opened in sync with each other and Castiel stifled a moan when Dean pushed his tongue inside his mouth. Eyes closed, it all became heated in a matter of minutes. The feeling of Dean lying on top of him was driving him mad. When Dean brought his lips down and sucked at his neck, Castiel fought (and failed) to not rut his hips up against Dean’s groin, which by now, he could feel was hard. He let out a heavy moan when Dean grinded down onto him. 

“You like that, baby?” Dean whispered. 

Castiel let his slack mouth be enveloped by Dean’s as he whimpered. “Mhmm…”

Dean skirted a hand underneath Castiel’s shirt and touched his skin. 

“Take it off,” Dean commanded. 

Castiel didn’t need to be asked twice. He sat up; Dean still straddled his hips as he removed his shirt, his skin flushed with heat and lust. Their lips barely parted, only to pull his shirt over his head; Dean pushed him back down and leaned down to kiss his neck. 

“I missed this,” he said as he pressed a kiss against Castiel’s throat. 

He said it again when moved down, brushing his lips against Castiel’s collarbone. He said it before he teased at one of Castiel’s nipples. He said it when he dragged his tongue down Castiel’s torso. 

“I _definitely_ missed that,” he said when Castiel moaned. 

He said it again just before he bit into the meat above Castiel’s hipbone. 

“Agh!” Castiel cried, arching his back upwards, breath hitching. He was delusional with desire, panting when Dean ran his hand over his erection that was fighting to get loose of his jeans. 

“And you can bet your ass I missed this.” Dean gave it a gentle squeeze and Castiel whimpered. 

Castiel was hardly present when Dean unbuttoned his jeans and brought his hand underneath the band of his boxer briefs. 

“Hmm,” Castiel sighed at the touch.

Dean came up slowly and kissed him feverishly on the lips while his hand stroked Castiel’s throbbing cock. Castiel almost pouted when Dean pulled his lips away, but he threw his head back into the cushions when Dean’s tongue licked its way up the underside of his cock. He squeezed his eyes shut, breath already quickening, and Dean hadn’t really done all that much.

When Dean took him into his mouth, Castiel’s insides burned with desire, heat flaring inside the base his stomach. He looked down to see Dean bobbing his head painfully slow, sucking in a breath when Dean’s eyes met his. Dean hallowed his cheeks before sucking his way to the head. 

Castiel was writhing.

Dean pulled off for a brief moment to bring himself up to Castiel. He didn’t say anything, but put his fingers into Castiel’s mouth. His eyes darkened when Castiel began to suck, swirling his tongue between his two fingers. 

He took his fingers from Castiel’s mouth and brought them down to tease at his entrance. Castiel shuddered. Dean took him in his mouth again, sucking at the tip. His breath hitched when Dean pushed in his first finger, moaning when Dean sucked him in, nearly swallowing him whole.

It wasn’t long until Dean added his middle finger, stretching Castiel even more. He buried his fingers inside of him, nearing his prostate with every push and pull. Dean let his mouth go slack against Castiel’s cock, pushing his fingers deeper inside of him, making Castiel buck his hips up into Dean’s mouth. 

Castiel let his head roll back as he slowly fucked into Dean’s mouth, Dean getting braver each thrust and taking him deeper, pushing in farther, until he hit Castiel’s prostate. Castiel cried out and shuddered as he thrusted, his legs beginning to ache from holding his body up. Warmth began to pool at the base of his spine, sparking upwards throughout his body. 

Dean slowly pulled off, mouthing at his shaft and kissing along his cock. He came up and kissed Castiel, licking his way inside his mouth. Castiel groaned when he could taste himself on Dean’s tongue. Dean didn’t stop fucking him with his fingers. 

Castiel was shaking with overstimulation, whimpering at Dean’s every thrust of his fingers. He was so close—he could feel it. It burned through him, building every time Dean pushed inside of him. He was making a sorts of sounds as Dean pulled his lips away from his, hovering inches away.   
It was barely audible, what Dean said, but it sent electricity through his bones. 

“I love you,” Dean whispered into his mouth, and that set him over the edge. He came with a stuttered moan, clenching around Dean’s fingers, and coming over his stomach. He kissed Dean deeply, as he finished riding out his orgasm by grinding his hips down onto Dean’s fingers. He pulled his lips away and sucked at Dean’s bottom lip.

“I love you too,” he breathed, kissing him again. He let Dean slide his fingers out before he began to fumble at Dean’s sweatpants, pulling them down over his ass. He was pleased to see that Dean wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

He made sure Dean was comfortable before he placed his lips against the head of Dean’s cock, tasting the bitterness of his precome. Dean groaned when Castiel made no hesitations, and took him whole, sucking all the way down to the base of his cock, hallowing his cheeks as he came up, and quickly dropped back down. 

“God, Cas,” Dean moaned, threading his fingers through Castiel’s hair. 

It wasn’t long before Dean was shaking beneath him.

“Cas, I’m so close baby. I’m so close,” Dean whined. 

Castiel growled and pulled away, grabbing at Dean’s sweatpants and pushing them down his legs, and threw them to the floor. He spread Dean’s legs, bringing his mouth down to bite into his thigh. 

Dean cried out, whimpering when Castiel licked over the bite mark. 

“Come on, Cas, please. Please, baby.” 

Castiel grinned before he sucked Dean down and swallowed him whole, humming when he could feel Dean hit the back of his throat. He quickened his pace and sucked harder. Castiel felt proud when Dean came down his throat in heavy thick stripes, without having to lay a single finger on him. He swallowed every last drop and lifted himself off of Dean.

“Jesus Christ, I missed _that_ ,” Dean breathed heavily. 

Castiel smirked and crawled up Dean’s body, minding his left side. He kissed Dean softly and sighed. 

“I missed it too.”

They were quiet for a while, lying together on the couch. 

“Do you think we can try again?” Dean asked softly, rubbing Castiel’s back. 

“Dean, my refractory period is _not_ what it used to be.” 

Dean barked out a laugh, wincing at the pain in his side. He chuckled again. “ _No_ , you idiot. That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh. What did you mean, then?” Castiel looked up at him, thankful that the low lighting was hopefully hiding his blush. 

Dean looked at him sincerely. 

“I’ve missed you a lot, Cas. I’ve tried to get over you, tried to get over the fact that things will never be the same. But…I don’t think I’ll ever get over you. No matter how fucked up our situation is, the absolute _crazy_ coincidence of us meeting, falling in love, and then finding out we were both broken by the same guy. I don’t care. As long as you’re okay with everything, I’m in. I want to be with you, Cas.”

Castiel smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, Dean. We can try again.”

“And hey, we can try _this_ all again later if you want, but I think I’m about to pass out pretty soon.”

Castiel chuckled and shook his head. 

“Me too.”

They fell asleep not long after. 

 

They moved the rest of Dean’s things in a couple weeks later, once Castiel was off work for winter break. They gave Gabriel his mattress back, thanking him and ignoring any snide comments about leaving any unwanted stains on the bed sheets. 

They decided to use the spare room for Castiel to use as his own office, that way he wouldn’t have to mark at the dining room table or the school. Dean found an antique desk that he thought Castiel would like, and had it delivered to the house. It was perfect, according to Dean, because Castiel was in the shower when it arrived on a Thursday morning. Dean practically smuggled it in (and it wasn’t a small piece of furniture, either) and covered it with a bed sheet. When Castiel got out of the shower, Dean was lying on his bed, reading the book that was on his bedside table.

“You know you’re reading the book upside down, right?” Castiel commented, unwrapping the towel from his waist and rubbing it through his hair. He didn’t bother being modest, letting Dean get a good look at him from over the pages of Stephen King’s _It_. 

“Oh I’m not actually reading,” Dean said smugly, quirking a smile up. 

Castiel looked at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“I got something for you.”

“Oh?” Castiel walked into his closet and grabbed a pair of boxers, sliding them on. 

Dean was able to move around more comfortably now that it’s been a few weeks—his stitches were due to be removed any day now. He got up from the bed with ease and walked into the closet, grabbing one of his shirts and pulling it over Castiel’s head. He took him by the hand and led him to the spare room. 

Castiel tilted his head when he saw something covered by a sheet. 

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Have a look for yourself,” Dean replied. 

Castiel looked at him warily, and then walked over to the shape, putting his hand on top. It was solid. He looked back at Dean with a questionable look. Dean nodded at him, leaning on the doorframe. Castiel pulled the sheet away and stared in awe. It was an old refurbished oak desk, sturdy, and antique—by the looks of it. 

“Dean.” He was speechless. Dean walked beside him. 

“I found it online on this auction site. Got it shipped from St. Louis,” he explained.

“I don’t even know what to say…” Castiel trailed off. “It’s beautiful.”

“I thought you might like it.”

God, it looked expensive. The thought of Dean spending something like this for him had his stomach in knots. 

“You didn’t have to do this for me. How much did it cost? I’ll pay you back.”

“Cas, stop. This is a gift. You needed it. No sense making this your office if you’re not going to have a desk, right?”

Castiel smirked, letting the idea of a ‘gift’ swirl around the butterflies. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

Dean wrapped an arm around his waist. “It’s all yours, baby.”

He kissed Castiel’s temple and pulled him closer.

“Thank you, Dean. It’s perfect.”

It was even more perfect when Dean decided he was well enough to bend Castiel over the hard oak surface and fuck him senseless. It got better when it started to snow and Dean thought it was an appropriate excuse to make banana pancakes because it was ‘like rain, only frozen,’ in his opinion. 

Castiel didn’t complain.


	20. Everything We Need

Castiel woke the next day tender and sore, and _happy_. He didn’t complain that they both slept in rather late, considering he wanted to actually do something that would qualify as productive, but lying next to Dean seemed more important of a task. It wasn’t until noon before they decided to get out of bed. They made out in the shower, giving each other a quick hand job and a wash. 

Today was the day Dean got his stitches removed and a checkup examination. Dean was practically vibrating, he was so excited. If he was clear to drive, Castiel told him he would bring him to his car and let him drive home. It was as if Dean was a five year old getting candy; he was so excited. 

Dean’s appointment was at 3:00 PM so they left shortly after 2:30, Dean settled in the front seat of Castiel’s car. Dean was in such a good mood, he didn’t complain about the music Castiel was playing, which was something he liked to tease him about. He sang along with the radio, tapping his fingers against the dash. 

It was a bit chilly on this December afternoon. It had only snowed a few inches the night before, but the weather remained cold enough that it stuck around all day. Castiel loved looking at the trees, covered in frost, and completely unlike their summer sisters. He hummed along to the song on the radio and watched as the light shone like crystals through the trees. 

He could tell Dean was happy to get out of the house for a change, his eyes roaming all over the valley. The river was flowing fast, not cold enough to freeze over. Castiel shuddered thinking about it, as Dean made a remark about going skinny dipping.

 

The appointment went smoothly, Castiel thought. He was out of the room while Dean got his stitches removed, but the doctor had otherwise stated that Dean was healing remarkably well. He prescribed him some more antibiotics and some light painkillers.

“Am I good to drive, Doc?” Dean asked. Castiel could tell that was the first thing Dean really wanted to ask, but he waited until the appointment was almost through. The doctor thought about it for a moment. 

“I don’t see why not,” he answered. “You’ve been taking good care of yourself, Dean, and it’s showing. There will likely be some nerve damage where the bullet went through. Some days it will be tight to move around, which may cause some limitations while you’re driving, some days it won’t. But if it’s causing you any pain in the future, don’t hesitate to come in and we’ll see what we can do alright?”

“Sounds good to me,” Dean said, standing up and shaking the doctor’s hand. “Thanks, doctor.”

“Alright, Mr. Winchester, Mr. Novak,” he shook Castiel’s hand. “Have a great day.”

“Thank you. You as well,” Castiel said. 

 

“ _Ooooh BABY_!” Dean exclaimed when they got to Sam’s house. The snow on the ground stuck to the bottom of Castiel’s shoes as he stood outside. Dean was sitting inside the Impala for the first time in weeks. He smiled when he was able to start the car. “Listen to her purr. Oh I’ve missed you Baby.”

Castiel was leaning against the door, his head at eye level with Dean. 

“Are you good to go then?” he asked. 

“Absolutely,” Dean replied. “I’ll see you at home.”

He leaned out the window and kissed Castiel. 

“Drive safe,” Castiel said, standing up. 

 

Castiel got home before Dean did. He cleaned the house up a bit, just for something to do. It had begun to lightly snow outside, and Castiel had to stop himself from worrying about Dean driving. But if he was being honest, he was relieved when he heard the Impala pull up half an hour later. He smiled, knowing Dean likely went for a joy ride. The look on Dean’s face suggests his assumption was correct. 

“How was that?” Castiel asked when Dean came inside. 

“It was _awesome_ ,” he replied, walking over and kissing Castiel, even though they just saw each other. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Castiel put away the vacuum. When he turned around, Dean was sitting on the couch, beckoning him to come over. When he sat down, Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He smiled when Dean kissed his temple. 

“Oh,” Castiel remembered. “I have something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay, shoot,” Dean replied. 

“Well…since you’re doing so much better and everything is good, I was thinking we could have a little party here. Christmas is coming soon, and I thought it could kind of be a pre-Christmas party of sorts. We could invite our friends from work, family, just everyone. It would be nice to meet some of your coworkers now that you’re not stuck in a hospital bed.”

“Wait, you want to throw me a _party_?” Dean asked, pulling away to look at him. “Cas, you hate parties.”

“I know. I know I do, but I’ve been thinking about it, and I really want to do this for you, Dean. I think it would be fun. And actually, I don’t _hate_ parties, I just never know what to do when I’m surrounded by that many people. I didn’t hate the party you threw for my birthday.”

“Yeah, well that was different. That was family. And it was a pretty small party.”

“That’s true,” Castiel agreed. “But I want to do this for you. I think it would be fun. Would that be something you’d want to do?”

Dean thought about it for a moment and cracked a smile. 

“Yeah, that sounds like fun.” 

 

A week later, they were having the party. 

Castiel went out of his way to buy mediocre decorations like small sparkling lights to hang along the wall, along with some Christmasy styled garland. He wasn’t overly too keen on holidays, but he kept up with the tradition for everyone else’s sake. Dean joked about getting mistletoe, but Castiel said no. 

“I don’t want people making out the entire time.”

“Ah, come on Cas. That’s the fun part about Christmas!”

They were walking along the aisles at Target, shopping cart in front filled with snacks and decorations. 

“I don’t see how kissing pertains to anything about Christmas, Dean.” He tossed a bag of Doritos into the cart.

“It _is_ a tradition,” Dean countered, pointing a finger out. 

Castiel sighed. He was tired and stressing out about the party. He wanted it to be perfect. He wanted it for Dean; he didn’t want to let him down. 

“I would really prefer if we didn’t have it hanging during the party,” he replied. 

“I’ll take that as a yes! For the…bedroom?”

Castiel huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes, pushing the cart along. Dean disappeared momentarily, and came back dangling a mistletoe above their heads.  
Dean chuckled as Castiel blushed and kissed his cheek.

 

The invite list for the party wasn’t overly too large, for the people on Castiel’s end of the list. Since many of the people he worked with were already acquainted with Dean, he let Dean contact the people from his work. 

They decided to have a potluck party (bring your own beer and food type deal) and Castiel was excited to see the everyone come out. They only invited a few from each workplace, and their family friends. Even Rufus stopped by for a drink, which was not something Castiel was expecting. It turned out that Rufus and Bobby were old friends, and they were deep in conversation before Castiel even had a chance to say a proper hello to the man; Ellen was keeping up with the conversation with practiced sarcasm and banter. 

The next group of people to arrive where from Dean’s work. Adam, Hannah, and Sarah came together, all bringing platters of food. Adam brought Dean's favourite beer, and the girls brought wine. Dean was gentlemanly and introduced Castiel to his work friends (even introduced him as his _boyfriend_ —which made Castiel squirm with pride). Adam, Castiel found, was a little rough around the edges, but once he opened up a bit, Castiel could tell why he and Dean got along so well—they were practically like brothers. Hannah and Sarah were sweet and laughed at Castiel’s jokes. 

Jo and Charlie were next to arrive, bringing an array of vegan dishes to the table. Gabriel was next, bringing the sweets and an assortment of liquor. Sam entered not long after, followed by a petite blonde woman with impeccable curls. He proudly introduced the woman by his side as his _girlfriend_ , (and publisher) Jess. It was a warm welcome, and Castiel was very excited to meet her. Dean often complained that Jess was all Sam ever talked about, so Castiel of course, could not wait. He was engrossed in conversation instantly with her—she was so captivating, not to mention beautiful. 

“Way out of his league, if you ask me,” Dean joked, holding a beer in his hand. They stood around the kitchen, making conversation, his other hand never quite leaving Castiel’s hips. 

It was casual; people arrived, dished up, sat and ate. The white noise of chatter filled Castiel’s home with more life than he had ever seen it hold. Even when Balthazar threw him his surprise party, it was nothing compared to this. At that party, he was out of place. He hardly knew half the people there because Balthazar invited people he’d never introduced to Castiel until that moment. It was a little overwhelming, if Castiel was being completely honest. 

But _this_ , was completely different. 

Castiel felt warm, as he looked around the dining room, seeing faces lit up with laughter and joy. Even though he didn’t know some of them all that well, he felt happy that they were there. There was music playing off in the background that helped drown out any silences. 

Aaron showed up, much to Dean’s surprise, and it was nice getting the chance to know him as Dean’s friend—as well as the EMT that saved his life. He shook Castiel’s hand and gave him a bottle of wine to crack open. 

Castiel got himself comfortable on the couch with his glass of wine as Aaron sat on the other side of him. There was an eruption of laughter coming from the dining room, and Castiel turned to see Dean’s head thrown back, eyes squint shut as he wheezed. Castiel smiled humbly at the sight, noting that Dean hadn’t looked this happy in a long time. 

“He’s doing really good, I see,” Aaron said. Castiel turned back and smiled at him.

“He is,” Castiel agreed. 

“How’s the pain for him?” Aaron kicked one of his heels up and balanced his ankle on his opposite knee, finding a comfortable position. 

“It’s manageable,” Castiel answered honestly. “He has good days and bad days. But mostly good days.” Castiel took a sip of his wine. 

“That’s good to hear. Has he talked much about what happened?”

Castiel wasn’t sure if Aaron was prying for information, or if he was generally concerned. Castiel awkwardly rubbed his palm of his free hand on his knee, and tried to look for an excuse not to talk about this with him. It wasn’t his story to tell.

“Sorry,” Aaron said suddenly, likely observing Castiel’s change of mood. “I shouldn’t be asking you this. It’s none of business.”

Castiel gave him a soft smile. “It’s okay, Aaron. I just don’t think it’s my business to share, if that’s alright? I can say that we have talked things over, and he’s doing much better now that we have.” 

Aaron nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

Dean appeared out of the swarm of conversations and settled himself gently between the two men and leaned into Castiel, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. 

“How’s it going?” he asked Castiel. His voice was light and airy, and Castiel could smell the faint remnants of beer on his breath—and hoped to god it wasn’t going to conflict with his pain medication. 

“I’m alright,” Castiel replied. “How much have you had to drink? Should you be drinking anything at all? The doctor _did_ prescribe you more pain medication.” 

Castiel glanced at Aaron for any sort of agreement, but Dean spoke before either of them. 

“I didn’t take any today,” Dean confessed. 

“Aren’t you in pain?” Castiel asked, leaning back to get a good look at him. 

He didn’t look peaky or in a cold sweat. His skin was flushed from laughter and his eyes were bright, reflecting emeralds in the light. 

Dean shrugged. “A little, but it’s honestly not that bad. I’ve suffered through worse before taking anything.”

Castiel glowered at him.

“Dean…”

“I’m fine, Cas. I promise. I’ll let you know if it gets to be unbearable. I’ll stop drinking for the night, just in case I need to take some tonight. Okay?” Dean leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. 

Castiel sighed.

“I suppose that’s reasonable.”

Dean gave him a small smile, one that was only for Castiel to see, before he kissed Castiel tenderly on the lips. 

“Get a room!” Gabriel yelled from the kitchen. Castiel threw up his hand, baring all but the middle finger at his brother. Dean chuckled, kissing him once more before getting off the couch. 

Castiel had to admit seeing Dean a little drunk was endearing. 

He watched Dean as he walked down the hall, into their bedroom, and he could see their bathroom light flick on. He looked back and winked at Castiel before closing the door. Aaron had shifted himself, leaning towards the other couch where Hannah and Sarah were sitting, talking about what it was like being out in the cold for their undercover sting. Everyone else was surrounding the dining room table, aside from Jo, Charlie, and Ellen talking at the kitchen island and drinking tea. Gabriel had made himself comfortable in the dining room with Adam, Bobby, Sam, Jess, and Rufus. 

Castiel glanced back at their bathroom door and looked around again. He slowly got up and stretched his arms, walking down the hall. He closed their bedroom door behind him and gently tapped on the bathroom door.

“Dean? It’s me.”

Not a second flew by before Castiel was yanked inside the bathroom with the door quickly shut behind him and Dean’s mouth crashing into his. Castiel shut his eyes as Dean kissed him, eager, and willingly.

“What took you so long?” Dean breathed when they parted. 

“I—uh,” Castiel stuttered.

“Never mind,” Dean said as he kissed Castiel again, running his hands along the front of Castiel’s button down shirt. Castiel stifled a moan when Dean’s palm ran over the bulge of his growing erection, arching his back to lean into the touch. 

It was almost as if they were teenagers in the high school janitorial closet, trying to get off before their next class began. But at this moment, it was like time stood still. The music outside of their room became muddled white noise, and the conversations turned into nothing but murmurs as Castiel became lost in the moment. 

Dean's mouth trailed down to his neck and Castiel sucked in a breath, mouth slack, eyes closed, when Dean nipped at his throat. He began to unbutton Castiel’s shirt and skimming his fingers along his chest. He cupped Castiel’s cheek as he came back up and kissed his open mouth, tongue reaching inside. Their breaths were laboured and quickening. Dean pushed Castiel backwards until he was leaning against the counter, and unbuttoning his pants. He kissed down Castiel’s neck, sucking in bits of his flesh as Castiel shivered beneath his touch. Castiel sighed when Dean’s hand firmly wrapped around his cock. 

He was already so wound up, that it didn’t take much before he was practically writhing. Dean got on his knees and licked along the underside of his his cock, it pulsing on his tongue. The image alone could make him come just by the sight of it. 

He savoured it.

Dean’s eyes shone in the poorly lit bathroom; they were dark and blown with lust, his fuckable lips were swollen and red from kissing. His skin was flushed and his breathing unsteady. 

He was remarkably beautiful. 

Castiel’s mouth dropped as he watched Dean wrap his pretty little mouth around his throbbing cock, feeling him tighten around him as he sucked harder. Dean never broke eye contact, and Castiel could feel the heat building in his stomach already. He was craning his body forward, so not to face-fuck his boyfriend, but Dean didn’t seem to mind. He opened his mouth wider, taking Castiel in deeper, and wrapped his hands around his hips and pulled him in, encouraging him to do so. 

Castiel let out a small whine at the sight. 

Having Dean become submissive like that, was something that Castiel had always loved. He didn’t realize how much he missed it, how much he was _craving_ it, until this moment. A burning hunger set fire, and he took control. 

He inched forward, placing a hand on Dean’s head and grabbing his hair. Dean grunted at the response and it made Castiel shudder. 

Dean was still looking at him, attentively, like he was waiting for instruction. 

“Don’t make a sound,” Castiel commanded. Dean gave him a small nod, and Castiel could feel his tongue flicking around the head of his penis. 

Castiel took a breath before he started moving back and forth, Dean relaxing his throat each time, allowing him to go deeper, until Dean’s swollen lips were at the base of his cock—which was, by now, completely down his throat. 

“You’re perfect,” he said, trailing a hand down the side of Dean’s face, and Dean leaned into the touch. 

Dean swallowed, and the muscle contractions sent a shiver up Castiel’s spine, and he started to move again, more earnestly, already so close. He pulled out far, almost completely, and Dean let his mouth go slack again as Castiel pushed himself deep. 

“Oh god,” Castiel moaned, moving faster. 

Dean’s hands were clamped tight on his hips, his fingers likely leaving bruises, but Castiel didn’t mind—he wanted them there. 

Dean swallowed again, and began to suck harder, more tightly, as Castiel thrusted into him. 

“Dean…I’m…I’m…”

Castiel let his mouth fall open, his eyes squeezing shut as he came, his cock twitching hard down Dean’s throat. Dean continued to swallow him whole, not making a sound as Castiel held onto his hair, finishing the last thrust of his orgasm. He slowly pulled out of Dean’s mouth, catching his breath, and crouched down onto his knees. He pulled Dean in, and wrapped his arms around him. 

“You were so perfect,” he praised. He ran his fingers through Dean’s hair and kissed his forehead. 

He pulled away and then gently kissed Dean’s lips, licking inside of his mouth to try and taste himself. He could tell Dean’s mouth was sore, because he didn’t move as much. So Castiel moved down his neck. 

Dean’s breath hitched when Castiel sucked a bruise on his neck, but he didn’t make a sound. Castiel nearly growled at the good behaviour. 

He couldn’t wait any longer—he needed more. 

He pushed Dean down onto the floor and hastily unbuttoned Dean’s jeans, pushing his shirt up. He pulled Dean’s pants down his thighs, and was practically salivating at the sight of Dean’s dripping hard cock. Dean sighed when Castiel lapped at his precome, sucking him in slowly, tasting every inch. Dean’s hands stayed at his sides, minding himself like a good boy. When Castiel sucked a little too hard, Dean _almost_ made a sound. But instead, his fists clenched and he stayed silent. 

It wasn’t long before Dean was shaking beneath him, breath quick and unsteady. He made no advances to fucking Castiel’s face, and Castiel hummed in his satisfaction and Dean stifled a whimper. 

Castiel pulled off and used his hand, bringing himself up to Dean’s lips and kissing him tenderly. 

“I love you, baby,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

Dean sucked in a huge breath and let out soft, stuttered groans as he came over Castiel’s fist. Giving in, he whimpered when Castiel kissed him, stroking him through his bliss. 

“So good,” Castiel said when they parted. 

The music suddenly got louder outside followed by a roar of laughter, and Castiel couldn’t help but wonder if it was because they were being too loud. He hesitated, and looked up at Dean. 

Dean shrugged. 

They washed themselves up, and were grateful neither of them got their clothes dirty. If anything they were rumpled and their hair disheveled. Castiel laughed when he got a good look at Dean’s hair. 

It was sticking up in all places, the pomade Dean used made it stay that way. Dean barked out a laugh when he saw his reflection in the mirror. 

There was laughter outside again and Castiel looked back at the door nervously.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said gruffly. “It’s our party. We can sneak off and have sex in our own bathroom if we want to.”

Castiel smiled as he nodded. 

“What are we going to say if they ask?”

“Oh I’m sure they don’t want to know.”

 

The rest of the night was perfect. They played board games, card games, even some interesting drinking games that Charlie said she learned while she was in college. Sam made a comment as to ‘what took you so long in the bathroom, Dean?’ and ‘where did you go Castiel?’ Dean made a quick remark about how nobody wanted to know, and everyone laughed. Castiel was a little nervous and embarrassed—if the reason they turned up the music was to drown out the sounds of their moans, it only made Castiel blush deeper. Dean gave him a reassuring smile, and his knee a squeeze. Dean was true to his word and didn’t have another drink for the rest of the night that wasn’t water or juice. He stayed by Castiel’s side, a hand on his thigh or around his waist, and a smile never left his face. 

Castiel had to admit that this was the best party he had ever been to. And he wasn’t just being biased. Everything felt perfect. It felt _right_. It felt like _home_. Castiel was nervous upon meeting Dean’s work friends “officially” as his boyfriend. He didn’t know what they knew of him, and Dean had only ever talked about work briefly—he liked to keep work separate from home, just out of his own preference. 

Castiel felt like he was going into the party blind, but he soon was able to see the reason why Dean was friends with them in the first place. They all brought a sense of pride and warmth to the room. They were generous and kind, and they all had an impeccable sense of humour. 

Castiel’s sides were burning by the end of the night. He almost didn’t want it to end.

 

It was late when they crawled into bed together, the very early hours of the morning. Castiel rubbed his eyes and nearly cried out when he looked at the time. 

“Jesus, I didn’t think it was _this_ late,” he commented. Dean was pulling off his shirt and crawling into bed with him. 

Dean chuckled. “Yeah we’re getting too old for this. Man, I miss being young. Staying out late, sleeping till noon—that was the best.”

“I wasn’t much for partying.”

“ _Oh_ , you don’t say,” Dean said sarcastically, laughing.

Castiel rolled his eyes and playfully shoved his boyfriend. 

“You had fun though right?” Dean asked.

“I did,” Castiel answered truthfully. It was the best party he’d ever been to, and that wasn’t because it was his idea. “I hope you liked it.” 

“I had the best time, baby. It was amazing.” 

“Good. I’m glad.” Castiel moved and let Dean get comfortable. 

They were silent for a while, and Castiel thought Dean had fallen asleep.

“I love you, baby,” Dean whispered. He pulled Castiel into his arms and kissed his forehead. 

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and sighed.

“I love you too, Dean.”

Castiel's eyes fluttered shut as Dean softly ran his fingers down Castiel's arm, while his other hand intertwined theirs together. Dean kissed his forehead again before whispering the tune into his hair. 

" _We got everything we need right here, and everything we need is enough._ "

Castiel leaned into Dean as he started to drift asleep; the sensation of Dean's fingers trailing along his arm, his warm breath that blew across the top of his head, making his hair brush along his forehead, sent a warmth through Castiel that he had never felt before. He could feel Dean's pulse in between their fingers as he held onto his hand and it made him happy to know that his heart belonged to Dean, and Dean's heart belonged to him. As their hearts beat as one in that queen size bed—that was home to him and his best friend, on the outskirts of a small town. 

It truly was enough for Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I HAVE A SPEECH**  
>  This is technically **THE LAST CHAPTER!** *gasps*  
>  I just have a small epilogue to add in but _IT'S COMPLETE AND I'M SO HAPPY._  
>  Seriously though, I was not expecting the amount of support and love I got for this fic from you guys. This is my first fic that I have written and completed, and I was apprehensive about uploading it because I really wasn't sure how people would like it.  
> My betas really enjoyed reading/editing it, and for them I am eternally grateful. If it wasn't for them DEMANDING another chapter because they really wanted to read it (forget about editing lol) I have no idea where I would be on this. I actually started and wrote the first chapter back in _March_ , set it aside, got busy, and then FORGOT about it--like I usually do with EVERYTHING I write.  
> But then I had accidentally opened it when I was going though my files in May and found it and was like OH MY GOD I NEED TO KEEP WRITING THIS. And yeah, I finished it literally like a week ago and it has been the best part of my summer. 
> 
> Sorry that I'm rambling on about it, but I just want to thank you guys for reading this, and becoming invested in the characters, and whatnot. 
> 
> Please feel free to share!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr, instagram, & twitter @hailxcas
> 
> Much love,
> 
> Meg <3


	21. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all for reading my fic, I am forever grateful for your love and support <3

Dean was a wreck. 

Well, not actually. _He_ was perfectly fine. But his heart stammered in his chest as he stood in front of Castiel’s classroom door with a bouquet of flowers. Cheesy, he knows, but he couldn’t help it. 

It was late June, the air was hot and dry. It was after school hours, nearly 6:00 PM, and Cas said he was going to have to stay late to mark finals. It only made things worse, because Dean didn’t know if he should do it _now_ or when Castiel got home. He started to pace. 

_Come on, Winchester_ , he thought to himself. _It’s Cas_. 

He cleared his throat and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Castiel called. 

Dean opened the door and walked inside, flowers behind his back. 

“Dean?” Castiel said, confused and head cocked to one side. He half stood up out of his chair but Dean waved him to sit back down. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yeah I thought I'd come and say hi,” he replied, closing the door behind him. “I was on my way home from work so I uh…I got you these.” Dean pulled out the flowers from behind his back. 

Castiel raised his eyebrows in surprise. He took them from Dean’s hands and set them on the desk. 

“Thank you," he smiled, but he still looked confused. 

_Great_ , Dean thought. _This is going perfectly_. He cleared his throat and wiped his palms on his jeans. Stay cool. 

“Yeah.” Dean sat on the edge of the desk. “So. How’s work?”

_Goddammit. Work? Really?_

“Uhm, it’s fine, I guess. Just marking the essay portion of the finals, so it’s pretty dry.” 

“Yeah work was pretty lame for me too, today,” Dean replied. “How much do you have left?”

“Just a few. Is there something you need?”

Dean looked at him. He noticed how tired Cas looked; the bags under his eyes dulling the blue, his lips chapped, and his stubble was growing in thicker than Cas usually lets it. But his eyes never failed to be bluer than the sky, his lips were always softer than they appeared, and Dean loved the way his stubble scratched against his lips when he kissed along Cas’ jaw. 

“Dean?”

“What?” Dean snapped out of it.

“Was there something that you needed?”

“No, no. I just wanted to say hi. Bring you those,” he pointed to the flowers. 

Castiel nodded. “Would you mind bringing these home with you then? I don’t know how long I’ll be and they should probably get into some water.”

Dean’s heart sank a little. 

“Right,” he laughed lightly. “Of course.” 

Castiel handed him the flowers back.

“Is everything okay?” Dean asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Castiel pulled the next booklet off the pile and opened it to the written response section.

“I dunno, you seem…”

“Busy?”

 _Fuck_. 

“Sorry. I’ll just—go.” Dean turned to leave, rubbing his face with his hand. 

“Dean, wait.” Dean stopped. “Come here.” 

He walked back over to Castiel and stood beside his desk. Castiel grabbed his hand and pulled him into his lap.

“Woah there!” Dean exclaimed as he positioned himself over Castiel’s hips, straddling him. He smiled when Cas cupped his cheek and kissed him tenderly.

“Thank you for the flowers, Dean. I’m sorry I’m a little distracted with work at the moment, but I can’t wait until I’m done so I can get home to you.”

“Heh, who says you have to wait to get home?” Dean teased.

Dean trailed a hand down Castiel’s chest. 

“Hmm?”

“Dean…” Castiel grabbed his hand. “I can’t. I’m a work.”

“C’mon, baby. I know you want to.” He leaned in and kissed down Castiel’s neck, sucking lightly. He mouthed around his throat, smiling when Cas hummed in satisfaction. “Besides, it’s after school hours, and nobody is here.”

“Dean, I—I can’t…”

Dean sank his teeth into Cas’ neck and sucked hard, gaining a cry. He licked over the spot he bit into and pulled away, moving his lips back up to Castiel’s mouth. Castiel finally gave in and moaned, grabbing at Dean’s jacket and pulling it off his shoulders. Dean threw it onto the floor and began unbuttoning Cas’ shirt. It all became a challenge to see who could get one’s shirt off quicker than the other. 

Dean stood up, pulling Castiel up with him and turning him around so that Castiel was leaning back against his desk. He trailed his hands down his torso, stopping at his belt. He kissed Castiel deeply, humming as his tongue reached inside Cas’ mouth. He fumbled with Castiel’s belt and zipper. He was quick with his work, shoving his hand down Cas’ pants and grabbing his already hardened cock. He stroked it until Castiel was panting and shaking beneath him. He knew Castiel was close, so he got down on his knees and took him in his mouth, sucking generously and making no means to stop any time soon. Castiel had his hands in Dean’s hair, pushing himself deep down Dean’s throat. Dean began to hum as he could feel Castiel approaching his orgasm. 

“Dean…” Castiel sighed. 

Dean hallowed his cheeks and sucked hard, sighing when Castiel stilled, crying out stuttered moans as he came down his throat. He whimpered as his orgasm settled, and pulled out of Dean’s mouth. 

Dean wiped the corners of his mouth, but stayed on his knees. He cleared his throat and pulled out the little black box that was pressing against his thigh. He looked up at Castiel, who was still leaning back against the desk, pants around his thighs, and his head thrown back in his bliss. When he finally looked down at Dean, he stopped breathing. He stared between Dean and the box, which remained unopened. 

“What is that?” he finally asked. 

“Cas,” Dean started, “this isn’t exactly how I wanted it to go, but…”

He opened the box and revealed a ring. It was vintage, gold, and had a rather large band, almost like two rings in one. The centre of the band had small diamonds that wrapped around the entire ring. It was beautiful, Dean knew. Castiel was frozen. Dean wasn’t even sure if he should continue but he was here now, so he might as well.

“Cas, I know it’s only been a little over a year and a half since we started dating, and to some that might not seem like an overly long time but,” he cleared his throat, “this past year has been the best of my life. And the worst.”

He looked up at Castiel who only looked at him with sincerity and understanding. 

“Losing you for the few months that I did,” he continued, “made me realize that I don’t ever want to lose you again.”

“Dean,” Castiel whispered. He pulled up his pants and kneeled down in front of Dean. 

“I love you, Cas. And—and I want you to marry me. Will you? Will you marry me?”

Cas let his tears fall as he placed his hands over Dean’s. He looked down at the ring again and smiled. His eyes were bright when he looked back up at Dean, still tired as ever, but brighter than before. They lit up the entire room, and Dean didn’t think he could love the man any more than he did at that moment. 

“Cas?” he asked. 

“Yes!” Castiel blurted out. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean and lunged forward, causing Dean to fall backwards onto the floor. Dean laughed as Castiel smashed their lips  
together, the box squished between their bodies. 

When they sat up, Dean took the ring out of the box and placed it on Cas’ finger. It was a little big on him, but that was fixable. 

“It was my dad’s,” Dean told him. “We can get it resized if you like it, or I can find you a better ring.”

“Why would you think that? I love it, Dean,” Castiel replied, holding his hand up in front of him.

“Okay,” Dean chuckled. “Good, because I can’t actually afford to buy you one.”

Castiel laughed and leaned into him.

“How on earth are we going to afford a wedding then?”

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel and pulled him in tight. 

“What do you mean? We got everything we need right here… _and everything we need is enough._ ”


End file.
